I Love to Serve
by Mnemosyne77
Summary: She may be a servant to love, but he is a servant to her. Season 2 from Morgana's perspective. Based on a prompt on the dual meanings of servant. M/M. Spoilers for all of S1 and S2.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There is a dream she has. It is not one of those nightmares that stalk her sleep; the dreams that leave her cold and alone, shivering and terrified in the pre-dawn darkness.

This is one that comes into her mind unbidden when she is awake; or that bubbles into her consciousness on a restless night when too much wine leaves her in that strange world that exists between sleeping and waking.

When she was younger, she dreamed that her father was still alive. She dreamed that they still lived as a happy family on their estates and everything she disliked about Uther became countered by that too-perfect memory of her father; present unhappiness distorting the past with a perfect golden glow.

As she got older, she let her mind wander to the idea of being Queen of Camelot, how that would feel, what it would involve, what it would mean for her relationship with Arthur.

But now, suddenly, unexpectedly, and unsought, comes a new dream. In the night or late afternoon, or any time she finds her mind wandering, she finds fresh images tapping gently at her brain and demanding entrance.

She doesn't entirely know where they came from or when they truly started. But now her mind takes her where it wills with little regard for her; it is her master and she can do nought but follow its commands. In the depths of her imagination, in the deepest secret nooks and crannies of her heart, there is a truth that she knows can never be spoken.

Except that one day, she did.

**

* * *

**

This is my new multi-chapter story based on a prompt by Brickroad16. Bricks and I have decided to both take the prompt and see what we come up with, so it should be fascinating to see the similarities and differences in our concept.

**The prompt is two different versions of the word "servant". Bricks was actually doing research (!) reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight when she came across an endnote that said the word 'servant' could mean that one was declaring him or herself as a lover. **

**So, our prompt is the dual meaning of 'servant' as both:**

'**a domestic worker, i.e. a job. Someone who serves'; and**

'**a professed lover'.**

**I hope you enjoy. And watch out for Bricks' version coming soon.**


	2. Chapter 1

**We do not know where we are until we can truly see where we've been**

A dragon rears up, its head rolling around on its long neck in anger and frustration.

"Merlin," it roared.

She woke up with a gasp and then settled back into her pillow. He eyes scanned the room. No fire. Thank the Gods. It had become her greatest fear; the nightmare, the rude awakening, the blazing inferno of her bedchamber; the accusations and recriminations, the rejection of those she cared about, the blazing inferno that was her pyre.

She looked out into the darkness beyond her window, trying to gauge the time since she had fallen asleep; since Merlin had left her chambers.

"I'm glad you're back," he'd said and he had meant it. She'd looked into his eyes and seen nothing but genuine concern; despite who she was, what she was. Despite even the stubborn decision that had led to so many deaths.

"I'm glad you're back."

With those words, she had looked anew and seen an anchor in a high tide, a port in a violent storm.

She'd had that dream about the dragon before, she realised. After Arthur was cured of the bite of the Questing Beast. She had thought little of it; a confused nightmare. It was Merlin, for God's sake. She doubted a dragon would cry his name in anger.

And yet. She casts her mind back; the events of the last year unfolding in her mind.

* * *

With a dull thunk and several uncoordinated blows, the head finally tore from the neck and fell into the basket below.

The executioner matter-of-factly moved on to his next job and the ugly crowd cheered. The Lady Morgana, her long black hair unbound and streaming down past her silk-clad shoulders, averted her gaze sadly then felt her eyes drawn back to the scene below her.

Why, she wondered, did she not ask Uther to move her chambers so she could not see the courtyard; could not see this carnage? She looked out on the seething mass of dreadful humanity below her, glorying in the spectacle, and shuddered.

This man had been a guard; a former soldier from Uther's many wars who had been injured. He had turned to sorcery in desperation; the festering wound leaving him unable to work and feed his family.

The witch had been very good at her healing craft. Too good. His injury had healed quickly and completely and people had noticed. When told the man's plight in court, Uther had pointed out that feeding your family is much more difficult when you're dead. The powerless man had been executed as an example and the warning to all was very clear.

Morgana's grey-green eyes swept the crowd and she wondered for one moment if there were any there who felt as she did. She saw a vaguely-familiar black-haired boy hovering at the edge of the crowd; his face as haunted by the spectacle as hers undoubtedly was.

"Gwen," she said, raising her voice so her handmaiden could hear her from the other room.

"Yes, My Lady," answered the dusky-skinned woman as she came into the room and joined her mistress at the window.

"That boy over there," and she pointed him out in the crowd, "the tall, very skinny one with big ears."

"Merlin, My Lady," said Gwen, pre-empting her mistresses' question, "he's Arthur's new manservant. The one who..."

"...saved Arthur from Mary Collins at the feast a few weeks ago," finished Morgana, remembering the strange sleep that had overcome them when the woman had begun to sing and the heroic rescue of the Prince from her blade.

"What do you know about him?" Morgana asked.

To her surprise, Gwen flushed slightly and she wondered if the boy had captured the maid's affections.

"Not much, My Lady. He's from a small village outside of Uther's kingdom. Gaius, the court physician, is his uncle... no, his mother's uncle... and she sent him to Camelot to live with him. He arrived less than a month ago. I believe she felt the village was too small for him."

"Since he saved the Prince's life, it's likely she was right," noted Morgana.

She sighed, thinking that she did not have a confidant to talk to about these things; her hatred of the executions, her fear that Uther would turn on her one day.

"It's a shame really," she said softly, almost as though she were talking to herself.

"What do you mean," asked Gwen, momentarily confused.

The Lady shrugged and turned away from the window.

"He's just a servant," she replied, indifferently.

* * *

She walked to see Gaius, her mind rifling through the events one after the other; trying to make some sense of them. She'd dreamed of Arthur's death and he was still alive. The loathsome Sophia and her father were gone. Arthur said he couldn't remember but that he'd apparently eloped with her and Merlin had brought him back.

It didn't make any sense, she concluded, as she prepared to step through the threshold into the physician's rooms. She would pretend to thank them but was really there to see if what she suspected was true.

Gaius had said he would get someone who could help. That could hardly have been Merlin. He was brave, yes, sincere, kind and romantic. But a peasant and a servant and he could not have helped. She smiled slightly, she wouldn't however have put it past the heroic fool to try.

So, then, Gaius and Merlin had lied to protect the one who had really saved Arthur. And why would they do that? Because he was a sorcerer. It was the only explanation. That meant they knew and still protected him. That meant they could be trusted.

* * *

She dismissed his servant, vaguely noticing that it was not the tall boy Gwen had told her was named Merlin, and walked over to help him with his armour.

She ran her hands down his breastplate, tightening straps and ensuring it fit properly. Her father had been tall and strong like Arthur but dark-haired like herself. She was nonetheless filled with a sudden fierce urge to have his arms around her; as her father would have thrown his arms around her. It is strange for her; this need to be protected.

She forced it down brutally inside her. If he was King and she became Queen, as the gossips whispered she would, then she would be in control. Men had power over every aspect of her life except this small spark inside of her. He could not have it.

Later, when she threw him the sword but he could not admit her assistance aided him, she was so furious. She could not marry a man like that, surely.

* * *

"What if you don't choose magic," she'd asked, her eyes flicking over to see his response to such a question. A question that could get another person hanged.

"What if magic chooses you?"

He gave her such a strange expression; it was as though he'd looked right through into her soul. She'd felt a frisson of something that she'd ignored. Merlin was merely being Merlin and Gwen had been right about him all along.

* * *

"Did you know Merlin tried to free you by confessing to sorcery?" she asked her maid. Guinevere was sitting on the ground in the cell; her simple brown dress stained with the dirt that the guards could never be bothered cleaning.

Gwen smiled sadly; only slightly cheered by the news.

"I think he must really care for you to do something like that," Morgana said.

Her maid shook her head.

"Merlin would do something like that for anybody."

"If you say so," she replied, but she thought that Gwen was too modest. What else but love could motivate such sacrifice?

* * *

"Bayard laced Arthur's goblet... with poison," declared Merlin.

Morgana winced inwardly. This, and so soon after the declaration of sorcery to save Gwen? What was Merlin thinking? That was obvious, she thought. He was thinking that he needed to save Arthur's life. Again.

* * *

Morgana rolled over in the bed and tried to stop her thoughts; she hated thinking about this time. Merlin drinking the goblet and collapsing on the floor, Arthur going after the Morteaus flower, and the conversation she had not been meant to overhear.

* * *

"Morgana encouraged him to it, but you're aware of that, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sire," said Gaius' voice, "I suspected as much."

"She doesn't care at all about this servant boy of yours. She didn't even visit him while he was ill. What is he, your nephew?"

"My niece's son," answered Gaius, calmly.

"Well, he may be loyal but he served as is expected and the outcome was regrettable. But what happened next... Arthur's life was saved only to be placed in danger again and she encouraged him to it."

"I know, Sire, but I think she had her heart in the right place."

"Her heart? The woman wanted only to prove that Arthur could be manipulated. More than one person speaks of their impending marriage and she was trialling how much control she could wield if that came to pass."

"Maybe, Sire, but you forget that she is still a child and a lonely one. Her father doted on her..."

"Too much," growled Uther.

"... and she needs to feel that she has some control over her life. She may have been motivated as you say but I believe also that she felt that saving Merlin was the right thing to do. Is it wrong for her to expect her future husband to uphold the values that..."

"Enough," commanded Uther. "Both boys live. That is what's important. And Arthur's actions were noble. I am proud to be his father. But Morgana is going to be a great deal of trouble in the next few years. I need your advice on how to handle her."

Morgana hadn't heard the rest; she had run. Because it was unfair and hateful.

_And true._

And she would prove him wrong.

* * *

"I can't believe you fed me rat stew."

"Sorry Milady, but you did ask if we had any food."

Then his infectious grin had broken out and she had smiled back and Gwen had giggled and oh, how they'd all laughed.

* * *

She chuckled to herself softly in the moonlight and hoped that nobody heard. And she saw; the Questing Beast and Merlin and Arthur running and Arthur dead and...

... Merlin's face lit by the pyre where his sorcerer friend burnt in sacrifice to Arthur and she wondered suddenly why she had never realised that this meant he knew that magic could be used for good and...

...Gwen lying asleep and safe in Merlin's bed while her father was the walking dead and her realising that Merlin cared for her maid and yet didn't want her in that way and was astonished at such friendship. _And jealous_... and...

... nothing because her plot to kill the King is something she refused to think about; refuses to admit. It did not happen; she has willed it not to be and all who knew about it are dead anyway.... and...

* * *

"You shouldn't be doing this," a concerned Gaius said.

"This is exactly what I should be doing," she answered as she placed one of the injured men on a table.

"You need rest, Morgana."

"I'm unlikely to get it with all this going on."

Sigan had attacked as was foretold and Arthur was out there fighting the creatures. And she was so angry at him for imprisoning Merlin and had been planning on remonstrating with him _he saved his life... twice... she fumed_ but the attack had intervened and now she... Arthur was here and needed treatment. She and Gwen got distracted by that for a moment and then...

"Gwen, I thought I saw Merlin."

"Merlin is in prison, My Lady," said Gwen and Morgana was astonished that the girl seemed almost indifferent. What on Earth had happened? Surely she would be as angry as she was about Arthur's behaviour.

The sorcerer had been defeated and the next day Merlin had been there in his cell and she had convinced herself that she was mistaken. But no, she thought, Merlin had been there and had spoken to Gaius.

* * *

But of course he was, she realised, as she lay there in the light of a rising moon. He had been there because they were in trouble. Just as he had been there for Gwen when he needed her and just as he had been there to help her.

He may just be a loyal servant. But he was hers as much as Arthur's and for this she was grateful.

And she rolled over and tried to sleep. And failed.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N So, very few of you liked Chapter 1 judging by the number of reviews. I'm hoping most of you are just waiting to work out where this is going. Look out for Bricks' version of this btw (or, I hear, other versions plural.****). It should be out soon.**

* * *

**When your world has gone askew, what do you do?**

She was waiting. And it was so frustrating. She stood at the top of the stairs looking blankly out of the window waiting for Arthur to return and tell her that Gwen was alive; that she had been rescued.

Uther had raged for hours and had now retreated to his private chambers to fume in private. He could barely believe that Arthur had disobeyed him and had felt that she was responsible; that she had manipulated him into going.

She'd recognised the look on his face and his lips had parted as if to speak. But it was still so soon since her supposed kidnapping by the Druids and now this attempted abduction... he was just so relieved that she was safe. He had looked at her accusingly but held his tongue.

_If only he knew_, she thought and then had a small moment of pure blinding terror at the thought that he might.

It was the fear, she realised. The fear was all-consuming, paralysing. It seemed so unfair to burden Merlin constantly and she felt so useless to need somebody like that. She was a Lady of the Court, Gorlois' only heir, and he was... a servant with too many masters.

But there was no one else she could trust to confide in so she'd tried to soldier on independently. So caught up in her own world that other people's emotions had begun to come as a surprise to her. That's why she'd been unprepared for Uther's refusal to rescue Gwen.

This was a man who had been willing to let a loyal servant die despite the fact he had saved his son's life on more than one occasion. Of course he wouldn't care about some handmaiden whose main contributions to the Court were cleaning and company.

She closed her eyes and felt her chest rise and fall with each breath. They had been gone too long. The waiting... on top of everything, the waiting... it was killing her. There had to be a way she could act. Making a decision and acting were the things she was good at. And yet, here she was.

She should have finished them off, she realised. She had the sword and they were so surprised that she would fight. She had punched one, then slashed at two and injured their sword arms. A quick thrust and it would have been over. But they were two women against three trained men and she had thought they would recover soon.

So they had run. And now she was standing here. Waiting.

She opened her eyes and winced as she thought back to her reunion in the Court. Uther had been so relieved to see her but when he had refused to rescue Gwen, she had snapped.

Gods, she had never felt so helpless, so dependent; completely reliant on one of them to help her. She'd looked at Uther, then Arthur, even Merlin, and had been shocked at how much she'd hoped that he would speak up in her defence.

_Idiot. As if a servant could stand up to the King in open court. What were you thinking? He might be brave but he's hardly suicidal._

Arthur was a different matter and she had been furious and disillusioned and... Arthur had decided to go and his decision had already been made; she had not influenced him at all. That was a strange feeling. He had behaved in the way she'd wanted and yet she had had nothing to do with it.

He'd changed, she realised and for the better. Was it Merlin? Was it something... someone... else? Sometimes she caught an odd look and wondered if maybe it was Gwen. She'd tried to press her maid on the journey to her father's grave but had gained little. She'd always believed the woman had a soft spot for Merlin or possibly that Knight. What was his name? Lance... something or other.

Whatever it was, Arthur had lied to his father and had resolved to go anyway. She'd stood in that room and looked at the man she'd always wanted Arthur to be and had felt... nothing.

Merlin had gone to rescue Gwen too. Clumsy Merlin with the sword skills of a 10-year-old. Of course he had. For Gwen, for Arthur, for... dare she even hope... for her? But it was just the two of them against Hengist. How could they possibly...

She heard a tread upon the stair but could not bear to look. Chainmail links clinked and she still did not turn her head. _Gwen was dead. Gwen was NOT dead. Gwen was..._

"Morgana."

She looked around to see Arthur, dirty and tired... and alone.

"There's someone here to see you."

And Gwen appeared from behind him and she embraced her friend.

* * *

She stood at her window overlooking the courtyard, Gwen busying herself in the room behind her. She'd tried to remonstrate with the woman that she should take some time off but she had refused. She'd wanted normality, she said, and her house was so empty.

Morgana looked down and saw Arthur and Merlin walking across the square. Arthur was powering on as though on a mission; Merlin was ambling behind him with a giant grin on his face. She smiled to see it; it could gladden any day.

As they passed below her window, she was sure she could hear Arthur say, "you really are a complete idiot, aren't you, Merlin?" and she laughed.

"Are you alright, My Lady?"

She looked at Gwen to see the quizzical look on her servant's face.

"I'm just happy you're ok," she lied.


	4. Chapter 3

****

If one's service is above and beyond the call of duty, is it not more than service?

**Part 1**

_Yesterday_

"Though we live in dark times, today I bring you light and love. It gives me the greatest pleasure to inform you that the Houses of Tregor and Pendragon are to be united in the closest bond of all. I am to marry the Lady Catrina of Tregor."

At this proclamation, Morgana turned an astounded look to Gwen who gave her a confused half-smile back. Marriage? He'd only just met the woman. He'd demonstrated an obvious affection for her but surely...

She looked over to Arthur, who was clapping half-heartedly with a blank smile on his face. She would have given her dowry to know what was going through his blonde head.

"I am to marry Lady Catrina... tomorrow," announced Uther, the suddenness of the wedding electrifying the Court.

She glanced around the room, hoping to gauge the reaction of the group to the curious declaration and her gaze alighted on Merlin. His look was shock and a kind of peculiar helplessness. _Strange_, she thought, _only the other day he was her biggest fan. I wonder what happened..._

_

* * *

_

The other day

She excused herself from dinner and walked back to her chambers with a small smile forming around her mouth.

Uther; smitten. What a strange creature. She'd never seen him so... likeable... before. She wondered if this was what he'd been like before he lost his wife and had a momentary epiphany of how different the world would be if she had lived.

Ygraine.

They said she was beautiful and kind and poised and loving. Uther had certainly not loved another woman since and, for a King who could have any woman he wanted by law, that was certainly a statement.

It had surprised her; how happy she was that he seemed to have found somebody. Or maybe it was selfishness. If he was distracted and in love then he couldn't notice other things: her magic, her flight to the Druids, the fact that his son's manservant visited her every evening.

She walked into her chambers and he was stoking the fire. She smiled.

"What are you doing here, Merlin? Don't you have tasks for Arthur?"

"Arthur can wait." he said and grinned. "Besides, waiting will be good for him. He can learn patience and humility. Yelling at me is his only real enjoyment in life. It would be wrong of me to deprive him of it."

She smiled at this and he looked cheekily at her. He was trying to cheer her deliberately, she knew. Since the Druids he seemed to have taken it upon himself to make sure she was alright. It was so... dedicated... of him.

"Besides, he asked me to tend to the beautiful, graceful, and elegant Lady Catrina, Who's to say I'm not tending to her right now?"

She grinned and he blushed.

"Um, I mean, um..."

"It's ok, Merlin. The Lady Catrina is currently being _well tended to_ by Uther."

She paused as she realised the number of compliments he'd given her.

"Do you like her?"

"Oh yes," he gushed, standing up and moving over to tidy up some clothes she'd left lying around, "I mean, usually nobles treat servants like dirt... not that you treat servants like dirt... I mean..."

She found herself grinning again.

"Gods, I sound like Gwen," he reproached himself wryly. "What I mean is... nobles are given permission to treat servants however they want. She chooses to be polite. Everything she's been through and she's still so gracious and so beautiful and.... "

"Stop, Merlin, stop," she protested and laughed, "I'm convinced. Maybe she will be a good influence on Uther. Now, I do not need anything else this evening."

"Are you sure, Milady, I could..."

"No, Merlin, I will be fine by myself."

"If you're sure, Milady. Good night."

"Good night. Oh, Merlin..."

He stopped at the door and turned to her. His eyes were dark in the moonlight. Weren't they usually blue? She couldn't remember and found herself strangely unsettled from not knowing.

"... I never got the chance to thank you for helping to rescue Gwen. Arthur is a trained Knight and it was his duty but you didn't have to go."

He paused, seeming to marshal his thoughts.

"Thank you, Milady, but... it _was_ my duty. I'm Arthur's servant as he is Camelot's. Even if I hadn't wanted to rescue Gwen... which I did, by the way, of course I did but... I would still have been by his side. It's my duty to him as his is to Camelot."

"I'm still grateful," she said with a nod, "there are many servants who would see all you do as far and beyond the duty of a manservant".

He smiled his toothless self-deprecating smile.

"Good night, Milady."

She closed the door behind him wondering at his unassuming modesty.

"Thank you, Merlin," she whispered and turned to her welcome bed.

_

* * *

_

Tomorrow

The heralds announced King Uther of Camelot and his son, Prince Arthur. The two entered the crowded hall with smiles on their faces; although Morgana was sure the one on Arthur's was a trifled forced. He was unimpressed with his father's bolt down the aisle; she remained amused.

She bowed to her King, stifling a grin, and watched as the two men headed to the thrones laid out at the front of the room. Thrones that would now be occupied by Uther and the lovely Lady Catrina.

Uther turned around and she was stunned to find a look of mindless happiness on the tyrant's face. She cast her head down to hide the laughter she was brimming with, hoping it would appear a respectful bow.

She looked around to see if there was anyone to share her joke but noticed that Merlin wasn't there. Gwen was behind her; her smile of ironic amusement forced into an expression of happiness and approval. No one would be looking at the servant's reactions anyway and if they did they would see only a maid smiling.

Where was Merlin? She had thought he would have made an effort to be there for Arthur's sake even if he seemed to have taken a strange dislike to the woman he had admired so much at first.

It concerned her; Merlin seemed such a good judge of character. Maybe he was just apprehensive about the effect of a new Queen on Arthur's position. He was, as he'd only reminded her a day or so ago, his faithful servant.

The handfasting ceremony was actually quite beautiful, she thought. They stood before the thrones while Geoffrey of Monmouth wrapped the vines around their entwined hands and pronounced them man and wife.

The two lovers on the dias kissed and the doors at the back of the hall flung open and Merlin raced in; a look of exhausted hopeless disbelief on his face as he took in the scene before him.

What on Earth was going on?


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N ****So, funny story. 'Beauty and the Beast' was barely supposed to be in this but once I started writing it, it just all flowed and now it's in three parts.**

**

* * *

**

How can we be great without those that serve and does that not mean that we serve them too?

**Part 2**

Morgana burst into Arthur's chambers; her fury blinding her to his morose look as he stood staring out the window.

"Can you believe this?" she cried as she stormed across the room to where he stood, "that... _woman_... has accused Merlin of stealing her seal."

"I know," replied Arthur, tiredly, "I'm responsible for hunting him down."

"And what? You're just going to do it? No arguments, no attempts to change your besotted father's mind? You're just going to hunt down your faithful servant... no, your _friend_... and drag him back here to be punished for a crime we both know he'd never commit.

"There is no servant more loyal, more hard-working, more devoted, more..."

"Morgana, please," Arthur interrupted her, "there is no way I'm going to convince him that Merlin didn't do it. He is a servant. Catrina is a noble lady and his Queen and it was her word against his. All I could do was warn Merlin so he could run."

Morgana stopped; momentarily thwarted in her enraged outburst.

"You warned him?"

"Yes, Morgana. I don't know what's going on but, as you said, there's no way that _Merlin_ would steal anything."

"I don't know what's going on, either," she finally conceded, "he spent a considerable time waxing lyrical to me about how wonderful she was. Then he seemed to change his mind."

Arthur smiled wryly, "I think he was just being... protective and... loyal." He laughed slightly. "He told me he thought she was a troll."

"And that didn't concern you?" she asked, concerned.

"It probably should have but I caught him spying on her and thought that he was... um... oh, it doesn't matter. Anyway, a servant's opinion hardly matters."

"Considering Merlin's service, maybe it should."

Arthur ignored that, looking out the window, his hands resting on the sill. He stood still like that for a moment and then hit the window sill and set the glass shaking.

"I've been ordered to increase taxes and to arrest and publically flog anyone who can't pay."

"What?" she said, outraged, "And what are you going to do?"

"I have no choice. Morgana, she's already trying to turn my father against me... and succeeding. I do not know what she is planning but I'm beginning to suspect that I'm in the way. And we all know what my Father is like when people don't do what he says."

Morgana just nodded, her anger completely deflated by his frustration. She opened her mouth to say something but then turned to leave. She stopped and swung back.

"Merlin said something to me the other day about you being a servant to Camelot," she said to his tense back.

"Your voice is no longer heard and you are forced to do tasks you would not choose. Maybe he was right. And maybe you need to ask yourself who your master really is."

And then she swept from the room.

* * *

She stormed into her own chambers, slammed the door behind her and wondered why she was so angry. _Because it was unfair and unjust and all that Uther could be when blinded by his emotions; whether it was his hatred of magic or whatever this was. _

"And they say that we are the emotional sex," she spit out.

"My Lady?"

It was Gwen. She had gathered her sewing and was preparing to go home.

"I'm sorry, Gwen, I'm just so furious about Uther doing this to Merlin... and to Arthur.'

"I understand, My Lady. The town criers have been announcing the new tax. I, I don't know how my neighbours will afford it. And I am so worried for Merlin."

Morgana looked at her for a moment.

"It's strange, I..."

"What, My Lady?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, "I know how close you and Merlin are. I just... wondered... why you weren't more concerned when Arthur locked him up."

"Arthur wouldn't do anything like that without reason," said Gwen with a disturbing amount of faith.

Morgana considered that statement. _Oh Gods, Gwen did have feelings for Arthur. What a mess._

"Let's hope you're right, Gwen, because his judgement is going to be tested a great deal over the next few days."

"Trust me, My Lady, Arthur will do the right thing."

* * *

"Father?"

"I'm relaxing your duties; revoking your title."

"What?" stammered Arthur in shock.

Morgana just stared, unable to believe what she was hearing. She'd known that Uther cared little for anyone but himself but she'd always believed him to be devoted to his son. When Leon had summoned the Court, she had scarcely been prepared for what she had heard.

"We live in dangerous times. I cannot allow you to undermine my authority."

_Undermine his authority, what was he talking about? What had she missed?_

"You've always welcomed my counsel in the past," said Arthur, disbelievingly.

"You stood against me for all the people to see."

_Oh Gods, Arthur must have refused to collect the tax. Was this her doing? Had she done it again? _Her eyes flicked to Gwen, standing with her head bowed but an expression of pride on her face. _Or was it Gwen?_ _It could be_.

"I'm... sorry," managed Arthur, seemingly unable to fathom what he was hearing, "any future grievance I have will be held in private."

"It's too late for that," stated Uther, matter-of-factly, "you are to be disinherited with immediate effect. You are no longer Crown Prince of Camelot."

_She should speak up. She had to speak up. She..._

"Sire, Arthur is your son, your natural heir," protested Gaius, but Arthur quietened him and then turned back to his father. He paused and then...

"You have always taught me to be true to my heart and that's all I've ever tried to do. To be the man you wanted me to be; someone you were proud to call your son."

"My decision is final."

Morgana saw Arthur look into his father's eyes as if looking for the father he had never known. He had been unjust and unfair but there had always been a logic to his behaviour; however obsessive and myopic. Now there was nothing. _Was it Catrina,_ she wondered. Yes... and no. She may have loathsome ideals but Uther was the one who had decide to marry her. She must reflect something in him.

Camelot's servant was dismissed and Camelot's master prepared to screw the thumb. And she wanted to see Merlin's grin. Desperately. Because if he was there then everything was still ok and the world had not gone completely mad. But he wasn't; which meant Arthur was enduring this alone. _And so was she. _

Catrina had picked her targets well. Banishment of the loyal and alienation of the rest. She must have known them better than they did. She'd gotten rid of their pillars; their support. She'd toppled their world by getting rid of those they dismissed as unimportant. And now she could take power and there would be no one to stop her.

"Queen Catrina will be named as rightful heir to the throne. The ceremony will begin forthwith."

And Leon started them clapping. Because what else could he do?


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N Brickroad 16 has been very busy and has posted two servant fics and the beginnings of a third. So go and read them. Like, right now. Seriously. And then come back and read this... Back yet? **

**As for this chapter, it could easily have been broken into two and I have no idea where one scene came from (could be my "crazy brain") but I hope you enjoy.**

**

* * *

**

Above and beyond and then some more

Part 3

Morgana stood in her chambers, still fully-clothed in the sumptuous white-beaded gown she'd worn to the ceremony.

She'd come back and had wandered aimlessly wandered through her rooms; the wardrobe overflowing with gowns, the jewels spilling out of the priceless lacquered box on her dressing table, the ornate carved mirror by her dressing panel. It was hand carved by an artist who specialised in decorative doors for the nobility. And meant precisely nothing.

_Uther had married a troll._

Now she stood still, her gaze resting on everything; on nothing. There must be something she could do. Some action she could take.

Of course, part of her was amused; Uther was married to a troll. How humiliating. _Serves him right_, muttered an evil portion of her mind. She stifled a laugh at the thought of the arrogant fool on his 'wedding night'. Then she thought of a disinherited Arthur and a pursued Merlin and the laugh vanished.

Her eyes flit to a vase that held a slightly-wilting bouquet of wildflowers Merlin had given her just before he had had to run. He'd wanted to replace the one she had blown up with her powers. Only she'd done it again one night and he'd kept bringing her flowers just in case.

If he had still been in Camelot, Merlin would be bursting into her room about now with some sad excuse for a task he said needed to be done. What was it last time? Pigeons roosting in the roof and he had to check her ceilings. He'd made a farcical attempt to look for the birds but had then dropped down and produced a carafe of wine.

He'd asked her about her magic, her dreams, how she was feeling. And she knew he did it only because he felt it was his duty to help her. But it was still welcome. And missed.

_Arthur had been disinherited in favour of a troll._

She closed her eyes, breathed, and then opened them again. Her eyes took in the restricting gown and she realised she'd have to undress. Gwen had been upset and Morgana had told her to go. She did not know whether she hoped or feared that the maid had gone to comfort Arthur.

_Uther had married a troll._

* * *

It had all happened so quickly. The announcement was made and suddenly the ceremony had been upon them; almost as if no time had passed at all.

Geoffrey began the vows and Morgana cast her eyes to Arthur; uncertain what to do or what to say. She was sad and angry and helpless and confused and... relieved?

She cursed herself for selfishness. Because if he wasn't Crown Prince then the subject of their marriage would not be raised again. He had been the Prince she had always wanted him to be the last few days and yet... she did not want to marry him.

She wondered why and could not come up with answer.

Then she imagined Merlin crouched under a dripping bush somewhere, wet and cold and lost, and the look of pity she cast to Arthur was not for him alone.

Catrina was manipulative but didn't a woman have to be to get anywhere in this world? No, it was Uther she blamed; his blindness, and thoughtless consent to barbarity. Catrina was just an ambitious woman. Uther was the one who could wield the power... and who chose to.

Well, he was certainly going to get what he deserved if Catrina decided she wanted the throne. She was unlikely to find the fact that he was still alive an impediment.

Catrina interrupted Geoffrey to complain that the vow was taking too long and Uther backed her up. Geoffrey was certainly an old windbag but this was completely unorthodox.

Wait, was she... scratching?

"Yes, just shut up and give me the Crown," she yelled, impatiently.

Morgana gasped, uncertain how to react. Catrina had completely declared her true interest and Uther... was still gazing at her adoringly.

Then to her astonishment, to Arthur's astonishment, to everyone's astonishment, the new Queen grabbed the crown and ran. Should they follow or...

"Catrina," called Uther, adoringly. He ran after her and so did they, pursuing her to the mysteriously-locked doors where she seemed to be overtaken by some illness and even Morgana felt sorry for the poor woman and tried to get somebody to help her until...

"You're a troll," exclaimed Arthur, disbelievingly.

"How dare you speak about her like that?" commanded Uther.

"I don't believe it," she managed as Catrina pulled one of the doors off its hinges.

"She's a troll," insisted Arthur, "a giant, grey..."

"Stinking," helped Morgana.

"...stinking troll," yelled Arthur.

"Stop it," commanded Uther, as he moved to pick up her shoes and crown, "haven't you hurt her feelings enough?"

Oh dear, he was enchanted. That explained a lot. Suddenly her righteous anger seemed less righteous. It appeared Catrina really was the evildoer of this story.

"Insult my wife again and it'll be the last thing you ever do." Uther stormed out of the room leaving Morgana and Arthur with mutual looks of astonishment on their faces.

Morgana paused, still in shock.

His wife... he'd married a troll.

_Ha!_ said her evil voice.

_Be quiet_, replied her conscience.

_You know you feel the same way_, wheedled the evil part of her mind, _and don't forget to remind Arthur that Merlin was right_.

She gave a small smirk.

"So... she's a troll," she said, her implication clear.

"Oh dear God," groaned Arthur in disgust, "this means Merlin was right."

* * *

There was a knock on her door and she walked over and pulled it open.

"Gaius," she greeted him, with a pleased smile, "please come in."

"I apologise for disturbing you so late," the physician said, his white hair seemingly wilder than usual, "after today's excitement, I thought you might need something to help you sleep."

"Oh... of course. Thank you, Gaius."

She took the vial and turned back into the room to put it onto the table.

"It might interest you to know that Leon and I and the rest of the Advisory Council are planning to confront Uther tomorrow. We're hoping it might shock him out of the enchantment he's under."

She laughed mirthlessly, "I don't like your luck. The man is completely besotted; even more insane than usual."

"Morgana," chided Gaius.

"I'm sorry, Gaius," she apologised with a more genuine smile, "I just feel so helpless."

"Well, what I'm about to say is not designed to make you feel any better, I'm afraid," he said. "Catrina is obviously power hungry and, with Uther under her control and her legal right to inherit the throne incontestable, she'll be even more brutal toward anybody she perceives as a threat."

"You're telling me to stay in my chambers until this is over?" sighed Morgana.

"Yes, Morgana, I am. She is in control now and if you are visible you will be a target for her wrath. Staying here is your best option. After all, for the Lady Morgana, visible is a natural state of affairs."

She smiled at that but then her face dropped again.

"But then how can we defeat her?"

"Don't worry, my dear, there are others for whom not being visible is a natural state of affairs. Leave it to them."

"What do you mean?" she asked confused and wildly curious.

He simply shook his head.

"Drink your potion now; it will help you sleep."

And with that, he left.

She looked at the potion and her lips tightened in determination. She would use it to get a good night's sleep but then Gaius was going to tell her their plan and she was going to help. She had as much right to serve Camelot as he did.

* * *

She woke up, drowsy from the deep sleep and looked around confused. She was lying on her bed clothed still in her white dress. She saw the low-lying sun through the window and thought for a moment that it was dawn.

She tried to focus on her room and saw an uneaten breakfast tray on her table. The sun sunk a little deeper in the sky and she sat bolt upright as she realised what had happened.

Gaius had drugged her. He'd actually drugged her and she'd slept an entire day.

"That... white-haired... man," she muttered, angrily. It was difficult to come up with adequate insults for Gaius. He'd obviously realised she'd try to help and had taken measures to stop her. It made her so _angry_.

She threw herself off the bed and looked at her rumpled self in the mirror.

"If he thinks this is going to stop me from doing something to get rid of this wom... _thing_... he's mistaken," she said to her reflection. And then she wrinkled her nose. She was definitely going to have to change.

"You can do this, Morgana. You're a grown woman. You can undress yourself."

How many times had she criticised Arthur for needing Merlin to undress him? Of course, armour _required_ someone helping to fit it, while most of her dresses could be taken on and off very easily.

Except for this one of course.

She glared at herself in frustration then determination. If she only achieved this one thing today, then she would not feel so useless. She was going to undress herself.

She reached back and felt the buttons at the back of her dress. She fumbled with the first one, both arms distended backward until it came undone. She breathed heavily with the exertion and then reached back to try button number two.

She managed it finally and then grabbed the material on each side of her bust and _pulled._ As she'd hoped, the other buttons pulled loose to her waist and the dress fell forward. She pulled the satin down her arms and then...

"Oh Gods," she cried, as she realised her predicament. She'd pulled the dress down her arms but had forgotten to undo the tiny buttons at each wrist. She stood there; her elbows trapped in the material and the buttons preventing her from getting free.

"I'm trapped," she said, disbelievingly.

It was probably bad timing for Merlin to choose just then to run into the room.

* * *

"Milady Morgana," he said, as he scooted through the doorway without knocking.

"I... oh."

He turned a deep red as he realised she was half naked and turned his back on her exposed breasts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't... I mean... I... um."

"Merlin," she said, trying to be calm, "I'm stuck and I need your help."

"Nooo," he replied, his inability to stay still giving away his agitation, "you need Gwen."

"Merlin, it's embarrassing enough that one person has seen me like this. I'm not exposing myself to the entire castle... literally, I might add... and last time I looked you were a fugitive so I can hardly let you run around trying to find someone trustworthy and female to help me."

"But I can see... I mean you're... I mean...no, the answer is no... definitely, no."

"Merlin, I will make it to my dressing panels and turn the other way. Then you can come and help me without seeing anything except my back. I need you to do this for me. Please. If there is a time I need your service it is now."

He went silent; obviously considering his options.

"Ok, fine. But if Arthur finds out about this..."

"Well, I'm hardly likely to tell him, am I?" She was getting impatient now.

She waddled through into her dressing room and behind the modesty panels, turning her back and hunching over to try to hide as much of herself as possible. _I look ridiculous_.

"Um, I'm ready," she called, "if that's the right word."

"Ok." There was a loud silence and then he finally slipped around the panels behind her.

"So, how did you...?"

"Oh, I pulled the buttons at the back free before I undid the buttons at my wrists and then when I tried to rectify the situation, my elbows got stuck."

She could have sworn she heard a stifled snicker.

"Merlin! Are you laughing at me?"

"N...n... no, Milady," he managed, stifling what was obviously a laugh, "of course not. Um, I'm going to have to reach around you to undo the buttons at your wrists."

"Alright," she agreed, somewhat stoically.

He came up behind her; carefully avoiding touching her back as his arms folded around her.

"Can't get them," he mumbled. He moved forward, the heat from his body warming her naked back as he gave himself enough room to get both fingers working on one of the buttons. She felt his breath on her neck and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes; bottom lip tucked under his teeth in concentration.

She glanced down and blushed to realise that, from this angle, any modesty was illusory. She may as well have been naked. She looked at him, embarrassed, and realised with a shock: he was so busy concentrating on his task that he hadn't even noticed.

And despite herself and her status and trolls and Arthur and everything that made sense in her world; her heart gave a small lurch.

* * *

"So, why are you back?" She was dressed finally, although given the lateness of the hour she wondered whether she shouldn't have put on her nightgown.

He grinned, "I never left."

"What? Do you mean you've been...?"

"Yes, Milady. I laid a false trail to the Northern border and then I've been here trying to find a way to expose Catrina as a troll. I did, but..."

"Merlin, that was you?"

"Yes. Magic potion swap. Long story. Anyway, I didn't realise Uther was enchanted so exposing her didn't work. Gaius and I have been trying to find a way to break the enchantment."

"And you've found one," she stated, excited.

"Yes, but it's a bit... a lot... insane. It's a crazy plan. I need your help."

"Anything."

"Uther still trusts you. You haven't spoken against Catrina and you haven't disobeyed one of his mad orders because you haven't been there."

"Merlin," she interrupted, a tinge of anger in her voice, "was it your plan to drug me?"

"Umm... ahhh... kind of..."

"How could you...?" She was speechless. There was no way _Merlin_ could have done all this.

"I'm sorry but I know your temper and I was worried you might do something rash without first considering the consequences."

The worst thing was she could feel her mouth moving but no words would come out. She calmed herself.

"What's this plan?" she managed.

"We can break Uther's enchantment by making him cry."

"You can't make Uther cry. The man's heart is stone. He says he loves me but look at the way he treats me."

Merlin waved his arms to quiet her. He was right. The last thing they needed right now was her ranting about Uther.

"I'm going to kill Arthur."

She was reduced to blinking. Not even the mouth would move anymore.

"I have half an hour after he drinks the poison... potion... to administer the antidote. So I need to know that Uther will be where he's supposed to be when Gaius goes to fetch him."

"And you need me to distract him so he'll be where you expect him to be?"

"Exactly," confirmed Merlin.

"You do realise that if you fail, Arthur will be dead."

"I won't fail," he said seriously.

She found herself appraising him; every clumsy, lanky, amazing inch of him.

"You really will do anything for anybody, won't you?"

"If they're a friend and they need me. Yes."

And her heart lurched again.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N *tries hypnotic suggestion*... you will read Bricks' three servant fics... then you will read mine... then you will review...**

**

* * *

**

A servant should be willing to undertake any task. Thanks is for those who are not obligated to obey.

Morgana tossed; unable to quiet her mind. The images flooded through her consciousness; she could not shake them off. She threw off the covers and walked to the windows, where bright moonlight was making sleep even more difficult to master, and drew the heavy curtains to block out the light. If only she could darken her mind so easily...

..."I'll try and create a diversion," he'd yelled over the chaos...

"I'll never forget this, Merlin," she'd yelled back, as she was dragged away...

She stumbled back to the bed in the pitch black of a curtained room....

..."What if you don't choose magic? What if magic chooses you?"

And he'd looked at her as though he _knew_...

Sliding under the covers again, she struggled to wrench her thoughts away from a certain dark-haired servant and finally get some...

...Uther had cried. It had actually worked. And suddenly Catrina was dead and Arthur was his usual arrogant self. The Kingdom had rallied around him and he had basked in their adoration. He was Arthur, the troll slayer.

"What about Merlin?" she'd asked, annoyed.

"What about him?"

"He discovered she was a troll; he exposed her; he found a way to break your father's enchantment."

"Yes, but he didn't _kill _her," corrected Arthur, patronisingly.

She looked at him disbelievingly.

"You know, Merlin's right about you... you really are an insufferable prat."

And then she'd walked off, determined not to look back, trying to ignore the pensive look he gave her as she went...

She rolled over, pulling the pillows over head and...

... "Carry on; it's my fault they're here," he'd shouted, before they'd pulled her along in their wake. The guards were coming and the Druids were dying and he was wrong. It was not his fault. He'd come to protect people; she'd refused to leave because she wanted to feel safe and in that moment couldn't see beyond herself. And yet he had done it because it needed to be done and she couldn't' remember if she had ever thanked him...

...It was early evening and all was back to normal so there was a knock at the door.

"Milady," said Merlin's tentative voice.

"Yes, Merlin, come in," she bade him.

He knocked again.

"It's Merlin, Milady."

She smiled in affectionate frustration.

"Yes, Merlin, come in."

The door cracked open and he asked nervously.

"Are you... able... to receive visitors?"

"Yes Merlin, I'm dressed."

"Just checking," he said cheerfully...

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something, anything that wasn't...

..."What really happened? And don't give me any rubbish about going hunting to help your broken heart."

"Apparently I eloped with Sophia," replied Arthur, disbelievingly, "and somehow that idiot servant of mind brought me back."

"Merlin? Then why is he in the stocks right now?"

"Well, I needed something to tell my father, didn't I?"

"Are you telling me that he saved you and then covered for you and is now being _punished_ for you?"

"Well, it is his job," declared Arthur and her palm had itched to _slap him_...

... I'm glad you're back," he'd said and she'd tried to avoid his eyes, so dark in the candlelight. She'd told herself it was because he was a servant. But when she looked into them sometimes, she found herself sinking. No peasant should have such depths in which to drown...

She pulled herself up sharply and opened her eyes to look at the ceiling. He was a skinny, lanky, angular _servant_ with ridiculously _adorabley _big ears and she had to get her thoughts under control. There were hundreds more like him and she desperately needed sleep. She closed her eyes again and held a deep breath to calm her heart rate. She found herself finally drifting away finally and...

...woke quickly with a gasp.

* * *

She crept into Gaius' chambers, hoping not to wake the physician where he lay sleeping on his small pallet in the main room. The moon was still shining and it was strange to think she had not been asleep that long.

It had been long enough.

She tiptoed quietly up to Merlin's room and eased the door open, suddenly wondering how she was going to explain creeping into his room at night; her cloak the only thing covering her nightgown. She had acted instinctively; barely letting herself wonder why she had so quickly run to him.

She walked through the door expecting to see him still asleep; unprepared for him to be standing at his window looking out at a moon-drenched Camelot. He was dressed only in a pair of sleeping trousers; his black hair tousled from rest and his ivory skin gleaming.

She took a deep breath, which drew his attention. He looked at her in astonishment and she simply stared. _Gods, she thought, he's beautiful. _And forgot momentarily why she was even there.

He blushed; the red blotch beginning at this neck and climbing to his face.

"Morgana," he exclaimed; so astonished he forgot to address her by her title.

"Um..." He moved around his chamber trying to find a shirt from all the clothes strewn about the floor.

"You do know you have a cupboard, don't you?" she asked.

He just smiled as he fished a shirt off a pile and drew it over his head.

"It has been mentioned to me before," he replied softly, trying not to wake Gaius.

"So, Milady, did you just come here to even the score?" he said with a cheeky grin.

"Even the... oh!" She gave an embarrassed shake of her head. "No, I..." she began, as the crushing weight of her vision came down upon her again.

"Merlin, I had a terrible dream. Not just a dream. A _dream_."

"What did you see?" he asked, concerned.

"I saw... Merlin, I saw..."

She stopped, uncertain of how she could even speak of what she'd seen. _They came true. They nearly always came true. You're the only one who's stopped one coming true._

'I saw death and... darkness and... I saw Gaius in prison... me in chains in the dungeon... you and Gaius burning... I saw Uther sentencing you to death."

She moved forward and grabbed his arms.

"You were only the first," she whispered, "I saw dozens, hundreds, after you. So many people, burning... innocent people burning. I saw a man... I didn't recognise him. He stood by Uther's side and he was the one who finally made Uther the monster he could be. He started it all; he started it with Gaius... and with... you."

"Did you dream his name?"

"No," she shook her head, "but I would recognise him anywhere. Cold eyes. And a feeling. Dry, yet clammy, like a toad. He's a toad, Merlin, he has toads inside him. And he's coming."

She held down a terrified sob. Talking about it made it so much more tangible; so much more real. It had been a dream but now it was a prophecy.

"He... he called me a witch; he said I had been corrupted by magic. Merlin, he will know my secret."

He gently disengaged his arms from her hands and drew her into them.

"It's ok," he whispered, "I promise you. It'll be ok. We're warned now and I will not let this happen. Do you believe me? I will never let anything happen to you."

She simply nodded and clasped her arms around his back; her head buried in his chest

"Thank you, Merlin," she said finally. Because somebody had to.


	8. Chapter 7

**The mind goes where it will. You cannot master it. Submit to its command or go mad.**

She stood behind the modesty panels and called him in to help her. He slipped around the panels and came up behind her, his body flush against her; the heat warming her naked back.

He folded his arms around to reach her wrists; his fingers fumbling with the small buttons. She felt his breath on her neck and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes; bottom lip tucked under his teeth in concentration.

She glanced down and blushed to realise that, from this angle, any modesty was illusory. She may as well have been naked. She looked at him, embarrassed, and saw that he had noticed too. His eyes darkened slightly but then he tore his gaze away and back to the task at hand.

"Done," he said, huskily. The buttons were free and the constricting dress slipped off and fell to her waist. She let it lie there; loving the exuberant feeling of freedom. His hands slid up her arms, the calluses drawing goosebumps from her sensitive skin, and then he wrapped them around her stomach. She leaned back into him, looping one arm around his neck and turning her head toward him.

He gave her one deep look of desire and then brought his lips down onto hers; soft and warm and gentle. They stayed like that for a while then he deepened the kiss, their lips parting and their tongues gently probing each other's mouths.

She felt his hands draw sensual spirals on her naked stomach, moving slowly upwards, and she wondered what the tiny calluses on his thumbs would feel like on her...

"Morgana!"

She jerked back to reality; Uther's angry whispered command drawing her attention back to the audience.

"We are holding Court, Morgana," the King said angrily, "pay attention."

"I apologise, My Lord," she whispered, trying to sound apologetic, "I'm afraid I didn't sleep well last night and I am struggling to stay awake."

His gaze softened.

"Nightmares again?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"We must ask Gaius to prepare you something stronger."

She smiled, as always ambivalent about his concern for her wellbeing. _It would change so quickly, if he knew. About my dreams, about my... thoughts and feelings. He plays the role of devoted father so well but step out of the part he wants you to play and..._

She saw in her mind's eye the burnings and the pyres and the hundreds of innocents being marched unfeelingly to their deaths while Uther stood by; all pretence of civilisation wiped from his face. At least Arthur still believed he served Camelot. In her nightmare she had seen a King who believed the whole world served him and punished brutally all those he believed did not obey. And the shadowy man stood beside him, making it all happen.

_Cold, black, slitted eyes burning into her; accusing her of being corrupted by magic. Merlin and Gaius burning on a pyre. And death and death and death and death and death._

She had to concentrate. Dwelling on her dream would drive her mad; if her mind was not already lost. She had, after all, just been devising elaborate fantasies about Arthur's _manservant. _

_It's Merlin or a vast parade of death_, she rationalised, _I don't want to choose death._

The doors opened and a small group of people entered.

"You summoned me, Sire." It was Gaius, Merlin trailing behind him. He shot her a quick look of solidarity and concern and she cursed her heart for beating slightly faster.

She couldn't understand it. He was tall, true, and that smile could light up the entire Kingdom. But he was lanky with that funny angular face and big ears. The black mop of hair on his head was badly cut and his clothes hung off his gangly form as though they were hand-me-downs from someone who ate more... or ate at all.

But he was always there for her; attentive and kind. He was the one she could rely on. And then there was the way his pearl-white skin had glowed by moonlight... and those eyes... those beautiful, deep-blue eyes. That must be it, she thought, it's the eyes.

Uther stepped from this throne and down onto the floor of the Great Hall. She glanced back to see that Arthur was standing behind his chair; lounging against the top of it. _Prat_, she thought somewhat affectionately.

"Gaius, I wanted you here because we have a petitioner waiting outside who claims to have seen magic at work in the Kingdom. I want your advice."

"Of course, Sire, I'm happy to serve as always," replied Gaius.

Uther turned to the guards. "Send her in."

And as the rest of her morning unfolded, Morgana found it remarkably easy to forget about her strange attraction to Merlin, or anything else for that matter.

The peasant woman claimed to have seen smoke form into the shape of a horse. It seemed such an innocuous thing, like a bored child playing, but for the King it was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

Uther had summoned the Witchfinder.

Gaius had protested but it had done little good. She hoped against all odds that this had nothing to do with her dream; that it was not this Witchfinder's cold black eyes in her nightmare. And knew that it was. And was terrified.


	9. Chapter 8

**Attack the master and he will fight back. Attack the servant and the master will not realise he is under siege until it is too late.**

The cart rumbled into Camelot; the cage at its back looming through the foggy autumn air. Morgana stood at the window; watching the Witchfinder disembark in the square; his face and figure obscured by the wide-brimmed black hat and long travelling cloak.

"Is that him?" asked Gwen at her elbow, more fascinated than frightened.

"Yes," said Morgana, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, hoping against all hope he wasn't the man she thought he was.

"What's that cage for?"

"It hardly bears thinking about," she managed to say through her fear.

The Witchfinder looked up at the window; seeing their faces framed in the light of the candlelight behind them. Morgana took a deep intake of shocked breath. It was as she had feared; he was the man of her nightmares.

She stepped away from the window and into the familiar room; hoping to be calmed by its normal homeliness.

"Gwen, I need you to get Merlin," she commanded, seeing the Witchfinder's face in her head by Uther's side; seeing the march of the innocent dead.

"Merlin? My Lady?" inquired Gwen, her voice showing her confusion.

"Yes, Gwen, please. Tell Gaius I need a potion and get Merlin here. I need to tell him something."

"Of course, My Lady," said Gwen, respectfully. She was obviously curious but Morgana knew she would not ask and so she need not tell.

"And Gwen? You may then return to the lower town. I have no more need of you this evening."

"Of course, My Lady, thank you, My Lady."

Morgana paced around her room while she waited; her blue satin gown trailing the floor. She tried to calm herself; to find the spirit she knew she had to struggle against the injustices of the world. _Why do I keep being faced with enemies I do not know how to fight?_

There was a respectful knock at the door and she opened it to see Merlin with a sleeping draught in his hand.

"Milady," he said for the sake of the guards, "you needed something to help you sleep?"

She let him in, waiting until the door was closed and latched before turning around.

"It's him, Merlin. The Witchfinder. He's the man from my dream."

"Aeridian? It makes sense, unfortunately," he sighed, "as Uther's trusted Witchfinder he could send all of us to our deaths."

"I can see it happening," she said, turning her back to him to stare at an empty wall, "he finds out about my magic and he realises that you have been protecting me. He believes Gaius has been too, and in a way he has. Uther wouldn't execute me because of his promise to my father but he will let you burn. Merlin, I don't know how to stop it."

"Morgana," interjected Merlin, coming around in front of her so she had to look at him.

"I know how scared you must be right now; how alone you must feel. But I made a promise that I would let nothing happen to you and I meant it."

She nodded unconvincingly; unconvinced.

"He has no evidence of anything. As long as you and I go about our normal routine and say nothing, he can do nothing."

"My dreams always come true, Merlin. You know they do."

"I don't believe that. If they always came true, and there was no way to stop the events from happening, then why would you have them? What would be the point? It's a warning so that we can stop this. I _will_ stop this. I swear to you."

She nodded more convincingly; calmed by his words.

He held up the vial in his hand with an ironic grin. "Now, I promise that this is a regular sleeping draught and that I am not trying to drug you."

She smiled at that and he smiled back; glad to see her mood lift, however slightly.

"I want you to take it and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day and everything will be alright."

She took the vial and swallowed it obediently.

"Thank you, Merlin."

"It's my pleasure to serve, Milady."

* * *

Morning was brighter; the dawning day made better by a good night's sleep. She had dressed with Gwen's assistance; barely noticing she was wearing her favourite blue and purple dress. Such things seemed so unimportant at present.

She sat by the fireplace at a loose end, while Gwen began to clean her chambers.

"Have you any news of the Witchfinder?" she asked her servant; trying to make her question seem offhand.

"Only that he asked to interview Merlin," replied Gwen grimly. Morgana looked at her servant in shock, only now noticing the worried frown around her eyes.

"What? Why on Earth would he want to talk to Merlin?"

"That... _woman_... named him as a witness." The emphasis on 'woman' showed exactly how Gwen felt about the peasant woman who had reported the sorcery. It was the closest Morgana had heard Gwen come to swearing.

"You don't sound very impressed with her."

"I'm sorry, Milady, but if there's one thing I trust less than sorcerers it's those who see sorcery where there is none. How many lives will be torn apart because she wanted to feel important for a few minutes?"

"Lives like yours, you mean?" Morgana asked cautiously.

"Yes, Milady," replied Gwen, her angry tones becoming more clipped as she spoke, "I know very well the consequences of hysteria over magic.I would not wish that pain and loss on anybody."

Morgana acknowledged her with a faint nod; not knowing what words would be a comfort in the circumstances.

"The problem of course," Gwen continued, "is that it is very easy to accuse someone of being a sorcerer. It is very hard, however, to prove that you are _not_; as my father found out too late."

Morgana stood and walked to the window; looking out upon the courtyard. If there was one thing she didn't want to think about it was the pointless death of Gwen's father. Her role in it. Her attempt at revenge.

_Maybe I should have gone through with it_, she thought_. If Uther had died that day, this would not be happening. I would be free._

The door opened to admit Leon.

"My Lady, the King requests your presence in the Great Hall. The Witchfinder is to report his evidence."

* * *

"The sorcerer laughs in your face," declared Aeridian as he strode up and down in front of his witnesses. The three women had produced the most astonishing stories; of goblins dancing in the flames of a fireplace and toads coming out of a sorcerer's mouth.

Morgana sat in her straight-backed chair and tried to stop her fingers from digging into the arms in terror. _How could he gather so much evidence so quickly? What kind of magic caused these strange apparitions?_

She glanced at Merlin standing next to Gaius in the back of the hall. He whispered something to the older man and looked concerned. He met her gaze briefly and nodded reassuringly. _Act normal. Do nothing. _She tried to relax.

"Even now magic flourishes on the streets of Camelot," continued Aeridian.

Morgana glanced at Uther and was frightened even more by the shock and dread on his face.

"I can scarcely believe it," the King said, although the fear in his tone spoke otherwise. He believed Aeridian completely.

"And yet it is the truth, My Lord. Fortunately, I've utilised every facet of my craft to bring this matter to a swift resolution."

"The sorcerer?" Uther leaned forward in his chair in anticipation. "You have a suspect?"

"Oh, I do, My Lord, and I regret to say they stand among us in this very room."

Uther stood up to face the Witchfinder, Arthur leaned forward looking concerned, and Morgana tried to breathe herself calm. She didn't know how any of these strange stories could be connected to her dreams or the odd candle flaming but she knew what came next. This was where he exposed her. This was where it began.

"My methods are infallible," boomed Aeridian's confident voice, "my findings incontestable. The facts point to one person and one person alone."

And with one satisfied look, Aeridian twisted suddenly on his feet and pointed to the back of the room.

"The boy, Merlin!" he concluded.

"_Merlin,_" said Arthur, disbelievingly, "you can't be serious."

* * *

"Arthur!" called Morgana angrily as she strode into his chambers.

"Don't. I know what you're going to say, Morgana, but don't. There's nothing I can do."

"But Merlin?"

"Is free, of course." He smiled sourly. "The idea that he could be a sorcerer is ludicrous. The boy can't even deliver breakfast without spilling it. He is hardly plotting Camelot's downfall."

She sighed in relief. "They found nothing in his chambers. Oh, of course they didn't. As you said, it's Merlin." She gave a small laugh, the overwhelming relief bubbling up out of her.

"Morgana."

She looked at him pensively staring out the window. She'd been so absorbed in her own fears that she hadn't realised he was in the pose he took when he was troubled.

"What is it?" she asked, her good mood evaporating.

"It's Gaius. He confessed to owning an amulet found in his rooms. The King has given Aeridian permission to... interrogate... him."

"Int... interrogate him? What does that involve?"

Arthur smiled again his humourless smile. "I don't want to know. You don't want to know. The King feared Gaius would not survive it."

"But he gave permission for him to do it anyway? How can you countenance this?"

"It's not my place to approve, Morgana, just obey. And the Knights have been told we have no place in this investigation. There is nothing I can do."

Morgana sat down as her knees gave way. It was happening; just not in the order she'd assumed. _We're all going to burn._


	10. Chapter 9

**How do you steal a man's soul? In pieces. That way he may not even realise it is gone.**

"My methods are infallible," boomed Aeridian's confident voice, "my findings incontestable. The facts point to one person and one person alone."

And with one satisfied look, Aeridian twisted suddenly on his feet and pointed to the back of the room.

"The boy, Merlin!" he concluded.

"_Merlin,_" said Arthur, disbelievingly, "you can't be serious."

* * *

Morgana made her way slowly to Gaius' chambers; her head spinning with how quickly everything had happened. Aeridian had been in Camelot for a mere day and yet he had already found several witnesses, arrested Merlin, released Merlin, and then arrested Gaius.

Even now, the gentle white-haired man sat in a cell waiting for his interrogation. She had to see Merlin; had to know that he was okay._ There's no way Gaius is a _sorcerer, she thought, _but what was he doing with a magical amulet? _

She found the door to the Physician's chambers open and froze at the threshold in shock.

Merlin was in there, his back to her as he picked through some of the carnage the Witchfinder had made. He sighed and she stepped gingerly into the room.

"Merlin?" she said softly, just to let him know she was there.

He picked up a set of broken beakers between his fingers and stood there looking at them in silence for a long quiet minute.

"I can't quite believe it," he said, finally, "it all happened so fast."

He dropped the beakers and they smashed on the floor.

"It's my fault."

"No, it is not your fault," said Morgana, sternly, "don't you _dare_ blame yourself. Blame Uther, blame the Witchfinder, blame those idiot women with their ridiculous stories, but not you. This was _not_ your fault."

"You don't know," he said, turning to show her his red-rimmed eyes and cheeks that even paler than usual. "You don't know. I did this. I should have been able to stop it but I didn't and..."

"Merlin," she interrupted him, striding across the room to stand in front of him, "we were warned but it all happened too quickly. Aeridian was too smart. But we will find a way to stop him."

Merlin nodded, the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. It made her heart ache to see it; maybe because Arthur was so loathe to show these kind of emotions.

She felt a wave of urgency to pull him into her arms, as he had done for her only a few nights before, but she didn't know how. Such affection was as alien to her as every other aspect of a peasant's life. She bravely took one of his long, slim hands in hers and clasped it tightly.

"He's like a father to me," he wept, "he _is_ a father to me."

He pulled back from her touch and wiped the tears away. Then his mouth took on a determined cast and he nodded.

"There's no way he can prove that Gaius is a sorcerer because he isn't. I don't know why he had the amulet but it's irrelevant. Gaius is innocent and there's no way Aeridian can prove otherwise."

"No legitimate way," noted Morgana and Merlin's determination faltered slightly. Then he recovered his composure and he nodded.

"There must be a way. I need to think. I can't just stand by and let Gaius die. I won't let it happen; not when I could save him."

He looked at her and smiled slightly.

"Thank you."

And despite the horror unfolding around them, she found a wide smile form on her face at his thanks. It was a good feeling to be of use to him after all that he had done for her.

"You're welcome, Merlin."

And then he was gone.

She made her way slowly back to her chambers, her thoughts consumed with images of him, her strangely euphoric mood lasting until the guards came to take her to Aeridian for interrogation. Apparently his investigation wasn't over after all.

* * *

"Are you alright, My Lady," asked Gwen with concern, when Morgana returned, "what did the Witchfinder want?"

The noblewoman turned and pulled her servant into an embrace without thinking; needing to be steadied, needing to feel ground beneath her feet.

"It was all about Gaius," she whispered, "he's determined to prove his guilt and I don't know what to do."

"What about Arthur?" asked Gwen, with such faith, "I'm sure he will try and do the right thing."

Morgana pulled away and found for one small moment a spark of her old anger.

"Arthur won't help. He is bound by his oath to his father and to Camelot. He may sympathise, he may even want to help, but unless we're able to provide him with a good reason he won't stand against his father."

"But..." Gwen tried to argue.

"No buts, Gwen. He stood by and let your father get executed, didn't he?"

Gwen's lips thinned at that and she turned her back and began to go about her tasks again.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," she said, "I can't believe I said something so insensitive."

Gwen smiled forgivingly, "it's fine, My Lady. I understand that you're upset. And besides... you're not wrong."

* * *

Morgana didn't know what was worse: the shameful feeling of relief that had coursed through her when the Witchfinder's questions had been about Gaius and not her own magical gifts, or the wild look of the man now as he was dragged before the court.

Gaius had been there for her always. He was Camelot. Always polite and kind and interested. A servant to all who needed him. _Like Merlin was._ To see the Court Physician like this; heaved humiliatingly across the floor of the Great Hall while Aeridian yelled at him to confess. It was horrific.

Gaius threw one appealing look at Merlin and then confessed to every ludicrous charge. She saw the Witchfinder's smirking self-satisfaction, heard Uther accusing Gaius of betrayal and ordering his execution, and felt her blood boil with impotent rage; at Uther, at Aeridian; at Arthur; at every other member of the Court who just _stood there_ and let this atrocity go on in front of their...

"You're a liar," yelled a voice. _Gods, it was Merlin. What was he thinking? He was the one person in the room without any power. Was he mad?_

He stormed toward the Witchfinder and Arthur shot off his throne with one fluid movement and grabbed him before he could attack the man.

"You're a liar!" screamed Merlin, as Arthur dragged him out of the room.

"I'll deal with this," the Crown Prince told the guards and Morgana shut her eyes against it all. She trusted Arthur enough still that he would not lock Merlin up. He was as uncertain about all of this as she was; if less terrified.

But through this defiance, Merlin would undoubtedly have incurred Aeridian's wrath and Uther's attention. He was Gaius' assistant. He would be next.

* * *

She stood at her window watching them build the pyre to burn one of the most loyal men in Camelot.

"How can Uther do this?" asked Gwen, coming up beside her. Morgana could see the deep pain in her eyes.

"Because," was all she could manage. _She was going to burn. She and Merlin and Gaius and all the others. Burn._

"I don't know anything anymore, My Lady," continued Gwen helplessly, "I don't know why Gaius had a magical amulet, I don't know why he confessed to everything. Those charges were..."

"Strange," agreed Morgana, "bizarre, ridiculous, ludicrous," her voice began rising as she listed all the synonyms she could think of in her otherwise limited vocabulary, "preposterous, absurd, risible, nonsensical, a set of pathetic lies that Uther nonetheless bought wholesale and that the toad of a man Aeridian has convinced everyone Gaius is guilty of."

"My Lady," counselled Gwen, worriedly, "you have to calm down. You will make yourself ill if you keep on like this. There's nothing we can do."

"Exactly," said Morgana helplessly, "there is _nothing_ I can do except end up imprisoned myself. Not that it matters because Aeridian is not going to stop with Gaius. Merlin may have avoided the cells for now but we will all be in them soon."

Gwen sighed and nodded in sudden clarity, "I understand now. You had one of your dreams. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You know how dangerous my dreams are, Gwen. You know how Uther would react. It's better if you don't know."

"But you... told Merlin?" she inquired.

"Yes, I told Merlin."

"I'm glad," said Gwen, simply. "I promise you, My Lady. If he doesn't stop with Gaius, if he keeps interrogating you, I will get Merlin's aid and we will stop this."

"Thank you, Gwen, but there's nothing you or Merlin can do."

She turned back to the window.

"The pyre he's building is for me."

"Have hope, please," begged Gwen, "even if Aeridian tries to accuse you, surely Uther will not harm you."

Morgana laughed, humourlessly.

"Don't fool yourself, Gwen. If he is willing to murder a good and loyal man who has served him faithfully for more than twenty years, then he will turn against any of us just as easily. He may not execute me but he will imprison me permanently.

"And now that Aeridian has talked him into killing someone so close to him, he has a hold on him. To turn against the Witchfinder after this would be akin to admitting that he executed the closest thing he has to a friend for no reason. He would never do that. No, it's Aeridian who has his soul now. May the Gods have mercy on us all."

She was still standing there, looking out the window at the growing pile of wood, when the Witchfinder came for her. As she knew he would.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N Still pimping Brickroad16's servant fics. They're really good, you know...**

**So, this is the hardest chapter I've ever written. I sat down on the weekend and wrote all four chapters for the 'Witchfinder' in a few hours and they all just flowed except for this one. I have re-written it about six times and I think this is as good as it's going to get although the tense changes are doing my head in.**

**PS - If you're wondering where the hostage situation at the end of the episode is, I haven't forgotten it. I just wanted to deal with it later.**

* * *

**A man should not be judged by how he treats those he needs to please but by his willingness to challenge them. **

Of all the memories she has, there is this one that her mind replays.

Merlin accuses Bayard of lacing Arthur's goblet with poison and drinks the liquid to save his master's life.

She sees the boy run in, sees him raise his arm to salute the Prince, sees him gulp down the toxic fluid. She admires his loyalty, his bravery, his temerity. But she does not ask herself whether she has these qualities within... not until now.

* * *

Morgana entered the Witchfinder's study for the second time; noticing the darkened room, the macabre skull he used to dip his quill in, the spiked chains he'd hung from the walls. _He used those chains to interrogate _Gaius, she thought, _what could he have done that was so horrific that Gaius would confess to something he did not do? What will he do to me with Uther's consent? _

It was deliberately designed to be terrifying, she realised. If only it didn't work on her so completely.

_Where's your fire gone, girl? How can you let this man control you like this? You have stood up to Uther himself; why such fear now? Get a hold on your emotions and fight._

But when Aeridian entered the room and began to calmly and quietly ask her questions about her dreams, Gaius' sleeping draughts and potions, her friendship with Merlin, and her knowledge of Gaius' illicit sorcery, she felt a terror she could not master.

"Well, that's all, my dear," he said after an hour of gruellingly-repetitive questions.

She got up to leave, relieved it was over, unable to keep the relief from her face.

"I'll need to speak to you again, of course," he called to her as she left the room. And he gave her a supercilious smile.

"I imagine I'll need to speak to you again quite soon. But I'll let you go and get some sleep. You have to be up bright and early to watch the execution, don't you, my dear?"

And he farewelled her with one of his self-satisfied smirks.

* * *

She has stood up to Uther, of course. Before. Before, when she knew she had nothing to lose. When she believed he would never really harm her.

And when he had refused to listen to her, refused to acknowledge her, refused to be _swayed_ by her, she had plotted to kill him in childish capriciousness. And now, when she truly had something to lose?

If resistance to Aeridian's reign of terror was a poison, it is one she could not bring herself to drink. She wanted too much to live.

* * *

She did not sleep that night. When morning came, she lay in bed watching her ceiling; waiting in trepidation for Gwen to arrive to force her from her cocoon. _This is the morning it begins. This is the day my nightmares are made flesh._

She wanted to run to Uther and tell him he was a sadistic fool who would only be happy when the Kingdom he ruled had no people left in it. She wanted to hide forever and never see him again. She wanted to roll over and find an angular form there so she could bury herself in something joyful and not think about her failure. She did not ask why she did not blame Merlin for not stopping this as he promised. _He is only a servant. He did what he could. The rest should have been up to me. And I did nothing._

She'd tried not to act in anger for once; to consider her actions. She had walked through that maze, tried the different paths, but each step she took led her inexorably to the same mad place.

Stay silent; the King's dutiful Ward. Innocent people died. According to the dream she would be exposed anyway.

Speak up; request an audience with the King and tell him he was wrong to summon the Witchfinder. Tell him that Gaius is a faithful servant and he cannot let this happen to him. Give Aeridian even more 'proof' of her corruption by magic and make Uther angry. She would end up in the dungeons and the dream would come true again."

* * *

The poison was there and downing it may not have saved lives but at least she would have tried. But she could not bring herself to drink it. She tells herself this is logic. She wonders if she's started lying even to herself.

* * *

The ugly angry mob had gathered outside her window. There to revel in the execution of a decent man by an evil tyrant. She had dragged herself out of bed to watch the show. If Gaius was going to die, the least she could do was bear witness. He was her friend. He deserved that much.

She heard the trundle of the cage as it moved into the courtyard and rolled her eyes. _As if a powerful and evil sorcerer bent on Camelot's corruption and destruction couldn't break out of that cage and avoid the pyre_, she thought, _surely the fact of being burned should prove a person's innocence?_

Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found Merlin. Gaius was being tied to the stake but Merlin was looking elsewhere, upset but also hopeful. There was the object of his gaze. It was Arthur who appeared to be arguing with an agitated Guinevere. She was obviously not going to let her feelings for him stop her from censuring him. Morgana had never been so proud of another woman in her life.

* * *

She had sat silent while Merlin accused Aeridian of deceit. She saw him walk in, his blue eyes flashing with his loyalty, his bravery, his temerity. He may as well have drunk from the poisoned goblet, may as well have placed his head upon the chopping block and laughed at the axeman, because a capricious King could ignore him completely and put him to death just for fighting back. _He did it for her just as he had promised and she has never had someone do something so noble and so selfless in her name before_...

And she hates this sudden doubt. She has always strived to treat servants as worthy people but has still believed in her core that noble birth made people _better_.

There is a memory she has that a servant was once a better man than a King. He drank from the poisoned goblet risking death but somehow gained life instead.

* * *

Aeridian bent to put fire to the kindling and Arthur yelled, "wait!". Merlin stood in the stunned silence of the Hall and outlined the evidence of Aeridian's lies. He was a lanky, clumsy servant who stood before the two most powerful men in the Kingdom and declared one of them wrong and the other a liar and lived to see another day.

Arthur had backed him up and she had seen Gwen look at the Prince in open adoration, her feelings there for all who would take the time to look. She was a servant, so no one would.

* * *

Of all the memories Morgana has, none of them confuse her as much as this one. She is standing in her room looking at herself in a mirror and thinking of the day the encroaching nightmare of Uther's witchfinder world collapsed and they were free.

She sees herself in the ornate, carved mirror in her room and knows a greater truth; a truth she can barely admit to herself even now when the proof is in her own expression reflected back to her.

She sees a mere servant standing up to save Gaius, to save her and she knows.

* * *

She is in love with Merlin.

And she doesn't know what on Earth she is supposed to do about it.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N So, the problem with this is that it's essentially "the Problem with Merlin". The problem with "The Problem with Merlin" is that it perfectly expressed what I wanted to say.**

**Apologies to GuildedDragonfly for swearing in the title of this chapter.**

**And thank you for the awesome reviews for the last chapter. You have no idea how inspiring it was. So inspiring you may even get another chapter this weekend. **

**

* * *

**

A brief hiatus from the sweeping course of destiny or the problem with servants is that they're servants

She could not solve the problem so she went to bed. She had considered confiding in Gwen; letting her maid be an ear she could pour her troubles into. But she had seen the love and adoration on the woman's face when Arthur had finally acted to support Merlin's move against the Witchfinder.

She did not know Arthur's feelings, but it was clear that alliances had shifted and she did not want her confidences to one day find their way to the Crown Prince's ear. There were many things he would understand or forgive but her love for his peasant manservant was unlikely to be one of them.

She had spent the past few weeks trying to go about her duties as normal; constantly distracted by her new thoughts, her new feelings. Her fear and hatred of Uther, her terror of discovery, had only been heightened by the incident with the Witchfinder. But that strange black time had also given her two confusing gifts; a new fascination with her magic and a new love for Merlin.

Camelot was a prosperous Kingdom but, as she was neither the King's Ward nor the Queen, she had little role in its functioning. She kept herself busy with some works of charity and the social engagements it was necessary to attend as the highest ranked woman in the Court. These were hardly enough to keep her mind from being distracted by details that had seemed so unimportant to her only a few weeks before.

Like Merlin's eyes. His eyes were light blue in sunlight, dark blue indoors, greyish-green in the firelight and dark, almost black, in candelight. There were times when they were in danger, when Aeridian's knife was to her throat, when they faced the Afanc with Arthur's flame, that she could have sworn they even flashed gold.

Other people's eyes saw her beauty, her status, her poise and her natural command. His eyes saw her.

She had walked down a corridor this morning; intent on some task that she can not now even remember. She had passed him on her way and he had stood off to one side and bowed his head slightly. He seemed just a servant; roughly-dressed, simple, kind and friendly. He was like so many other peasants that darted temporarily through her vision as she concentrated on more important things; more important people.

Then he had acknowledged her with a simple, "Milady", had raised his eyes to hers and she had looked into them and drowned. She had stood in the corridor, a dozen functionaries and courtiers around her, and imagined for one mad minute pushing him against the stone wall behind him and holding him there with her own weight.

But she had had to move on. The eyes were gone and she was free.

She had counselled herself against these things; the raging heartbeat, the roiling stomach, the mind that went blank when he looked at her. And then she had walked through the courtyard and seen him helping Gwen draw some water from the well and he had smiled his beaming smile.

When his face was composed, you could think he was ordinary; a farm boy with big ears. You could dismiss him as you wandered through a castle full of people who did not understand you, did not know that you had secrets; who would kill you if they knew what lay behind your practiced smile.

And then he would smile and his whole face would change, lighting up with an inner fire. He would smile at the cooks and the meals would be better, smile at the chambermaids and the rooms would be cleaner, smile at the guards and they would harass people less. He would smile at Arthur and Arthur would struggle desperately not to smile back.

She had spoken to him after Aeridian was buried; had told herself she was visiting him because he had saved them and deserved thanks. But she hadn't seen him for almost a day and had _missed_ him. She'd hoped he'd show some regard for her, give her some sense that his service was motivated by love or infatuation or even lust. Knew even before she had seen him that none would be there for her to see.

He had blushed like a modest maid at her thanks and then smiled. Her stomach had jumped and flipped; her heart missing beats for several seconds. For one small moment, she had felt the world was a better place.

And then he had gone to tend to Arthur and she was alone again.

She had seen him again that night at the feast to celebrate the defeat of the Witchfinder. The irony of Uther presiding over it seemed to have been lost on the King, who was downing goblets with alacrity. Merlin was circulating the room with wine; the real hero of the proceedings forced to serve on others.

She had been infuriated then bored; only vaguely aware of the servants who fluttered about her, refilling her goblet and bringing courses. They were a part of the normal buzz of the room but they weren't _him_.

Then he had whispered in her ear to see if she wanted more wine and she had glanced up, seeing his eyes and his smile and then looked down at his long, thin fingers clutching the jug.

His hands were elegant and strong, their supple fingers wrapping around the end of whatever he was holding, the small calluses that came from hard work on the pad of each one. He kept his nails manicured and clean; so unusual for a man of his station.

She had looked around at the boorish Knights, eating their food with their rough hands; courting noble ladies gently while beating servants or yelling at staff and had imagined, for one mad moment, the feel of those small calluses on her skin as those gentle fingers removed her clothes. Imagined them entwining her hair as they lay outside on some summer's day, her head on his chest, his arms around her.

And then he had filled her glass and those hands were gone. She had shifted on her chair, embarrassed and told herself she had been drinking too much wine but knew it was a lie. Her thoughts had drifted this way even before she knew that what she felt was love.

_Love_. It was almost impossible to think, let alone to admit. She was in love. She wondered what people - Arthur, Gwen, the noble ladies of the court - would think if they knew she was in love with someone so skinny and ordinary and _clumsy_. Yet when she thought of his clumsiness she felt herself smile.

Other servants could go their entire lives without a single noble person noticing them as anything other than a convenience for them to command. They were supposed to be subservient, silent and unnoticeable.

But every time he tripped over or dropped something, all eyes veered his way. Sometimes he would cast his eyes down as he noticed their gaze but mostly he good-naturedly gathered up whatever it was he spilled all over the floor and went on his way with a pleasant smile.

Once he had made a joke to a visiting Lord and Lady about being Camelot's entertainment. The Lord had looked at him confused but the Lady had smiled and laughed. Her eyes had followed him as he walked away.

Morgana smiled at the memory and imagined sitting somewhere intimate with him later on, laughing about the noblewoman who had somehow been enamoured of his inability to stay on his feet. She closed her eyes to the moonlight room and imagined cornering him in an alcove somewhere, his hands gripping a tray with Arthur's breakfast, desperate not to spill it as she stole kisses. She imagined a world where his clumsiness belonged to her.

She rolled over, paused, and then rolled back, her black hair knotting at the constant tossing and turning. She could distract herself somehow during the day. But when her body was unoccupied her mind ran free and all she could think about was him.

She drew her pillow to her and imagined it was his angular body she had wrapped in her arms. It didn't work; the pillow was too soft. She allowed her mind to wander to his ears; those ridiculous ears that stuck out like plates along the side of his head.

At first they had seemed silly, so innocent, so Merlin. Later she had stopped noticing them, as though they simply didn't register with her anymore. Now she found herself thinking about what it would feel like to take a lobe between her teeth, to run her fingers down the fold of skin, to whisper desperate things in them while he lay above her.

They were such silly things. No one with those ears should have so much passion. Servants tolerated what was wrong with the world; they couldn't change it and it made no sense to rail against it. Servants simply endured as all Camelot's peasants endured.

Morgana thought of the ugly, angry mob that had gathered to see poor Gaius burn, celebrating the great gift Uther had given them. Their hatred of sorcery distracted them from their mundane lives; allowing them to pour their confusion and helplessness into accusations of witchcraft, into the cathartic joy of the execution. They had welcomed the Wtichfinder as an old friend, the great equaliser, their repressed aggression bursting free from their helplessness ready to tear down to prove they had some measure of control over their lives.

Merlin had refused to give in to their hate, to their fear and ignorance, to the injustices they unthinkingly embraced. He had stood before Uther in the court; bold determination on his face. His teeth had gritted with his passion and he declared the Witchfinder a fraud. He stood a mere servant in front of the two men who terrified her most and came out unscathed and vindicated.

What it would be like to feel that passion directed at her; to feel that protection as belonging to her instead of Arthur and Gwen and Gaius and the whole wide world.

And yet, Gwen had said he had not acted until she prompted him; had not had a plan until he'd heard she was being interrogated again. It was her safety that had spurred him to action. Surely that meant something.

And if it did? Irrelevant. Because he was a peasant, a servant. If she were a man or perhaps older - married, the heirs of her husband safely born - maybe it would be tolerated or ignored. Men could do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted, as long as it wasn't with an unmarried woman of noble birth.

She smiled ironically into the inadequate pillow at the thought that if she were Arthur she could have Merlin and no one would care. Uther would probably be glad she wasn't getting some girl pregnant. Maybe she would even enjoy crass conversations with her friends about her conquest.

But for now she knew the truth she sometimes whispered to herself in her quiet honest moments, when she thought of his eyes, his smile, his hands, his passion, his clumsiness and his ears.

The problem with Merlin was that he was Merlin. And there was simply nothing she could do about it.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N So, this is really Chapter 11b in a way because I originally envisioned her lying in bed thinking all these confusing, slightly contradictory, things about Merlin and the Witchfinder and magic but they just didn't fit in the same chappie. Imagine that all this is going through her head concurrently with Chapter 11.**

**

* * *

**

The world is defined by one thing. Power. Who has it. Who wants it. Who wields it. Those who have power, rule. Those who do not, serve. That is the way of things.

**Isn't it?**

Sometimes her nightmares are visions of the future; warnings or omens or just disturbing images of chilling times to come. They plague her night and keep her from sleep and she would give almost anything to anyone just to be free.

Sometimes her nightmares are just nightmares. They are her fears made manifest; her mind's way of reminding her of the daily terror of discovery that plagues her. She dreams of an accident or a mistake; a candle lit, a misspoken word about her seer's revelations, a curtain caught alight and no explanation available except for her magic. She dreams her trial; Arthur's disappointment and fear, Uther's fury, Gwen's disgust, Merlin's helplessness. She sees a dungeon forever or a fiery pyre.

On rare occasions like tonight, her nightmares are the past replayed. The confusion. The fear. The exhilaration. She is jolted and overturned so much by her emotions that she wakes as unbalanced as if what she had seen was the future. Sometimes the past and the future can be just as confusing and just as unknowable.

Her mind rifles through the events of the past few weeks and she wonders how she can keep such discrete thoughts in her head at the same time. Her new forbidden passions: her love and her magic. They are distinct. They are the same. They are both mixed up with what she sees.

But tonight... oh tonight in her sleep she sees...

...she sees...

...she sees... she sees... the ceiling of her room as she lay in bed avoiding the day _today's the day a good man dies_... Merlin standing in Gaius' chambers with the broken beakers smashing and it's Camelot she sees shattered on the floor... an image of Aeridian keeping fear in a box and taking it out to play because it's his closest ally in a world where he sees only those with power and those without... her standing next to her father's grave and this time she plunges her knife into Uther's cold, black heart because what kind of ruler turns so easily on those who have served him so faithfully for so long... bright blue eyes flashing with determination and she's never seen Merlin so sure and so strong and she wonders what Arthur would think if he knew who her real hero was...... she sees... she sees...

...she sees... the Witchfinder gasp in pain and drop his knife as though burned... Merlin being dragged out of the throne room by Arthur... tossing and turning the night before Gais' execution unable to sleep....Gaius' unseeing gaze as he is dragged out of the throne room... the Witchfinder coughing up toads _he has toads inside him_... she sees...

...she sees...she sees ... Aeridian moving so quickly across the room and he's suddenly behind her with a knife at her throat... Aeridian bend to put fire to the kindling and Arthur yelling, "wait!"... the stunned silence in the Hall as Merlin outlined the evidence of the Witchfinder's lies and _Arthur backed him up and she sees Gwen's work again_... the toad sailing through a window to land askew on the hard, cold ground and her feeling nothing but relief... Merlin's refusal to be cowed as he demands a search of Aeridian's chambers... she sees... she sees...

...she sees...the knife handle as the blade pressed into her sensitive neck _he'd do it; all her cares about is himself, he'd definitely do it_... the nightmare dissolving into dust and knowing Merlin was right; right that her dreams could be thwarted, right that he would not let the horror happen, right that he would save her... a lanky, clumsy servant standing before the two most powerful men in the Kingdom and declaring one of them wrong and the other a liar _and living to see another day_... she sees... she sees...

...she sees... the knife flaring with heat _Oh Gods, was it me? Did I perform magic? Did they see?_...she sees... she does not know what she sees because she was sure the knife glowed briefly and the Witchfinder dropped it as though it was fire and fire is her power but she doesn't know how she did it and she _wants to know_... the knife drop from his fingers and she must have done it because if somebody else had that kind of power then they would have _used it_... she sees...she sees her magic for the first time and realises finally what Uther was scared of all these years.

Her magic is not a curse. It is power. No matter how many Witchfinders come to Camelot, no matter how many magicians get executed in Uther's name, she will no longer be cowed, no longer be afraid. No matter what life throws at her from this point forward, it will not faze her or upset her, or terrify her.

She has power. And if there's one thing she understands, it's power.


	14. Chapter 13

**Sometimes the secret to being powerful is finding your own kind of power**

The rain ran lightly down the windows of her room; casting a dreary feel over the old stone buildings she could see from her window. A haze hung like a miasmal pall over the town; her own growing sense of claustrophobia reflected in the patchy white snatches of mist.

Morgana stood at the window looking out at the tiny drops splattering into puddles in the courtyard as the new Knights trained. Their Knighthood ceremony was scheduled for that evening and was now inevitable but still they trained; terrified that Uther would withdraw his favour. _I used to be like that_, she thought, _I used to fear. _

Only a few months ago, she would have insisted on training with them to Uther's anger and Arthur's disdain. She would have been determined to prove she was just as strong and skilled as them, even though her broadsword had to be half the size of a man's and her armour lightened so she could wear it.

Now she felt the attraction of a new power; a weapon she could wield even against men twice as large as herself. Magic was the great equaliser; masters succumbing to servants and the physically strong forced to bow to those weaker.

No wonder Uther despised it so.

She looked at her unlit fireplace. She had asked Gwen not to light it despite the dreary day, giving rise to one of her maid's curious looks.

Morgana stared now at the logs and kindling and concentrated, willing the wood to burst into flame or to at least flare in response. She closed her eyes and tried to find the power inside her.

It was now past midday and she had been trying on and off since dawn with no success. It was so unfair that she had found and used her power in front of Uther, albeit without consequences, but now found herself without it when she was alone.

"Milady."

Her heart jumped a beat and she turned to face Merlin standing dripping rain all over her floor, a bunch of bedraggled violets in his hands.

"Merlin, don't you ever knock?" she said, trying to sound censorious; failing when she saw the flowers. "Thank you Merlin, they're lovely."

He gave her an amused look. "You're welcome, Milady, but I think they were nicer before the 20 minute walk through the rain."

She smiled softly as he perfunctorily threw out some flowers that had been delivered by the new Sir Vidor and arranged his violets in the vase in their place. She did not mind but Vidor would doubtless be infuriated at such cavalier treatment of his expensive blooms.

"Did you want me to light the fire for you, Milady?"

"No thank you, Merlin, I'm quite comfortable."

Merlin pursed his lips as he considered the cold stone room.

"If you say so, Milady," he replied finally. He went to leave but then turned back. She saw his white angular face and matted wet black hair and heaven help her but she couldn't stop the thought that he was just so strangely... beautiful.

"I wanted to see how you were. If you were alright," he said cautiously.

"Alright?" she asked confused.

"The Witchfinder. Your magic. I know it was a few weeks ago but I can understand if you were still frightened by..."

"No, Merlin, I'm fine," she reassured him with a smile, "Thank you though." She caught his deep blue eyes, hoping to catch his reaction when she said, "it's nice to know that somebody... cares."

He just nodded, his lips curving up into a smile. Her heart thudded at the sight, as it always did, but she was left no wiser as to his feelings. She was a beautiful noble woman; it was possible he considered the thought of them being together so impossible as to be unthinkable. He had certainly noticed her beauty; that much was obvious, although it had been a long time since he had been rendered speechless by it and....

She mentally shook her head. It was impossible anyway. Best to put it out of her mind.

"I'd better go," he said and grinned, "the Knighting ceremony is in a few hours and the Prat has needs."

"Merlin!" she half-heartedly chastised him and he turned back to smile again before he left the room. With the distraction gone, she was able to turn her attention back to the fire. When Leon came to summon her for the ceremony, she was still there staring at the cold hard logs.

* * *

"Arise Sir Vidor, Knight of Camelot."

There was something about Knighting ceremonies she'd always enjoyed; not least the adored attention of a group of young Knights. In this case though, she found the look of worship beaming from the young Vidor's face almost laughable. He was only 19 and had last week written her a poem where he'd compared her beauty to a local water source; lacking the local knowledge to realise it was actually a bog where several people had recently died.

"You've been accorded a great honour," continued Uther seriously. "With that honour comes great responsibility."

She glanced at Merlin and had to glance away quickly. It appeared Uther's serious tone and somewhat clichéd dialogue had amused him and he caught her glance with an ironic twitch of his lips. She smothered a smile and put on the serene expression of due deference expected for these proceedings; letting the mask drop for a split second as she shot him an admonishing glance. He put his head down to hide a smile; not fooled by her mock reproof.

"From this day forth, you are sworn to live by the Knight's code. You have pledged to conduct yourselves with nobility, honour and respect. Your word is your sacred bond."

Gwen, beside Merlin, had her eyes downcast. Morgana wondered how difficult it must be for her to not look adoringly at the man behind Uther; her forbidden love. She understood completely.

"You will find no one who better embodies these values more than my son, Arthur."

Morgana turned to the man she now thought of as a brother and gave him an affectionate glance. Merlin might have captured her heart but she had not forgotten that Arthur had stood beside him to discredit the toad. Uther might be blindly hypocritical but he was right about his son.

"Follow his example and you will prove yourselves worthy of your title."

There was a sudden and unexpected discordant clash of steel outside the main doors and the room tensed as they recognised the sound of swords striking. The doors flew open to reveal a Knight who strolled into the room impressively and confidently.

Morgana noticed Merlin's look of concern; he almost seemed poised to fight to protect Arthur. Any chance she had had of ignoring her feelings was lost in the sudden surge of love she felt at his fierce protectiveness.

Vidor and the other newly-minted Knights drew their swords but Arthur stepped through their ranks determined and unafraid.

The Knight, Morgana realised with a start, was dressed in the same light chainmail and armour that she would wear. He was either a slight man or...

He... or she... removed his... or her... gauntlet and threw it to the floor in a challenge. Arthur unhesitatingly picked it up.

"I accept your challenge," said Arthur flatly. "If I'm to face you in combat do me the courtesy of revealing your identity."

The Knight leant forward to remove their helmet to reveal long blonde hair and striking brown eyes with a yellow glint. The woman looked challengingly at the Court and between the gasps of shock and outrage, Morgana felt her own breath draw in too quickly.

"My name is Morgause," the woman said and Morgana felt the thrust of familiarity surge through her, as it had when she had met Mordred. Like the Druid boy, she was sure she had met this extraordinary woman before.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N So, a couple of things conspired against this chapter. First is work, which has been mad these past few weeks. The second is the weather. Do you know how hard is it to get yourself into a bleak autumnal claustrophobic English mood when it's perpetually 35 degrees, 80 per cent humidity, and sunny? Not only that but my MP3 of non-specified brand (Mnemosyne does not do product placement) kept insisting on playing soundtracks from Bollywood films. I ended up programming a "bleak playlist of angst", which helped a lot, but you did nearly get a Bollywood dance sequence. Actually, I can imagine Gwen in a sari...**

**BTW, did you know that Brickroad16's 'Challengers' story is still going and was recently updated? It's well worth your time. I mean, the time you don't spend reading and reviewing **_**my**_** fic of course.**

**

* * *

**

How should we choose our heroes? By their power or how they choose to wield it?

**Part 1**

Sir Leon was different to the other Knights. For a start, he was old enough to have some wisdom and calm grace; but not as old as the grizzled Sir Caradoc who had come out the other side of wisdom to cynicism.

Leon embodied all the virtues expected of a Knight of Camelot. When Uther spoke of Arthur's virtues he spoke the truth but unstated and implicit in his assessment of his son was the notion that one day he would become a Knight like Leon.

Leon was noble and brave and obedient but also loyal and wise. Loyal enough to be trusted to guard the door to the Throne Room to prevent any intruders. Wise enough to know when his loyalty required him to disobey his orders.

Something had happened in the Throne Room when Arthur had returned from his journey to see Morgause. Morgana cursed because she knew that Leon would never tell her what that monumental _thing was_. What made Arthur his father's son again? What made Uther look upon Merlin with such favour? Why had her world tilted toward her nemesis, the King, again? No, Leon would not tell her. But she had to try.

She fiddled with the new bangle on her wrist, the one that had given her rest and a clear night's sleep, and straightened her favourite green and purple dress. Then she set out to see Sir Leon. She lived in this Castle too. She existed. She had a right to know.

_

* * *

_

One week before

The yelling had followed her down the corridor as she left the Throne Room to return to her chambers. Gwen trailed behind her, apparently unconcerned by the challenge or the possibility of Morgause defeating Arthur. _Such faith._

In the Throne Room, Uther, Arthur and Geoffrey argued still about legal precedents and knightly codes and honour. Uther wanted the rules to apply to all but himself and his precious son, as was usual. Arthur was standing by his word, as he should. Morgana had eventually left, knowing she had no voice in the deliberation of men.

She walked into her chambers and paused, looking at the bed. Gwen walked past her and began to prepare the chambers for Morgana to go to sleep.

"My Lady, are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes Gwen. I'm sorry for being so morose. I've just had such trouble sleeping with my nightmare and... other things... I'm not looking forward to another night of tossing and turning."

"What other things are keeping you awake, My Lady?" asked Gwen, curious and concerned.

Morgana smiled the comforting smile she had mastered.

"Nothing important," she answered, "just some lingering fear about Aeridian."

Gwen's face softened. "Of course. Would you like me to get Merlin to bring you a sleeping draught after I prepare the bed?"

Morgana glanced at the violets in a vase near her window and thought of seeing Merlin. It was too tempting and too pointless.

"No thank you, Gwen. I have stopped taking them. I find they simply do not do me any good."

"Very well, My Lady.... oh, that Morgause woman is training in the Courtyard."

Gwen began preparing the bed as Morgana moved to the window and looked out at the armour-clad warrior parrying against invisible warriors in the Couryard; blonde hair blazing down her back. So familiar.

"Who is she?" asked Gwen, "why would she challenge Arthur? It seems no one's ever heard of her."

"I feel as if I've met her somewhere before," admitted Morgana, her eyes still drawn to the woman with the sword in the night.

"Really? Where could you know her from?"

"I don't know," she replied.

Morgause glanced up at the window causing another peal of recognition; like thunder directly overhead or lightning on a bright clear day.

"Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"I've changed my mind about the sleeping draught. When you leave, would you mind asking Gaius to send Merlin with one?"

Gwen smiled, obviously slightly relieved.

"Of course. Sleep well."

She fixed the room and then she left, leaving Morgana at the window until Morgause had long since returned to her chambers and the King's Ward was left staring at an empty Courtyard.

There was a tentative scratching at the door. She smiled at Merlin's continued reticence to enter her chambers past a certain hour since the 'dress incident'. Half the other men she knew would be bursting in deliberately at all hours of the day and night.

"Come in, Merlin," she called.

"Um... are you sure?" he asked, "because I can..."

"I'm dressed, Merlin."

The door opened.

"That was months ago, Merlin," she chastised him, "and you came in without knocking just this morning."

He blushed a bright and beautiful red, "It's near bedtime so... um...just checking... um, Gwen asked me to bring you a sleeping draught. She said you haven't been sleeping well again. Milady, why didn't you tell me you were still suffering from nightmares?"

She dropped her gaze for a moment. "Because I'm sick of talking about it. Because they're not great omens anymore; they don't warn me about evil sorcerers or Questing Beasts. They're just... images. Disturbing images."

He put the sleeping draught on the table and leant against the hard wood.

"What kind of images?"

"Fire raining down on Camelot but I cannot see the cause. An older Arthur dead upon a battlefield somewhere. A dragon calling your name in anger."

At that one, Merlin gave a small start and Morgana met his eyes.

"I know; it's insane. It sounds as crazy as I feel sometimes. I see..." she paused and swallowed to clear her throat, "I see a woman burning in a boat and she's wearing my dress. She has black hair like mine. I think... I think she may be me. I think Uther may finally find out about my magic and execute me."

Merlin pushed himself off the table towards her.

"I will never let that happen. I promise you."

Her lips curved up softly in a ghost of a smile and she instinctively moved across and took his hand. "Don't make promises, Merlin. We don't know what caused it, what led to it. Don't make promises you may not be able to keep," her smile broadened, "but thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"This is not why I asked you here," she said, "My nightmares are a plague I would gladly be rid of but...I needed to talk to you about... magic."

He started. "Magic?"

"Yes. You knew where the Druids were. I was hoping you might know about magic. I was wondering if magic could connect two people. If we could feel the magic in others as a kind of... recognition or connection."

"Like you and Mordred," asked Merlin, incisively. Morgana was momentarily stunned at his insight.

"Yes, like Mordred and myself."

"No, I don't think so," he said definitely.

"How can you be so sure?"

He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then started speaking slowly.

"Because... because I've seen Uther's suspect list, I've seen... I've seen magic performed in Camelot and not just by you and you have never felt a connection to those people so..."

She took a deep breath in shock.

"Merlin, are you..."

"I'm saying that I know other sorcerers and no, I will not tell you who they are. You all survive by keeping your identities secret - even from each other."

"But Merlin..." she began to argue.

"No," he insisted and she was taken aback by his decisiveness.

"But if there are other sorcerers," she argued, "then we can band together and insist on Uther recognising our existence as more than evil traitors. If they are powerful enough to avoid the executions..."

"They do not want violence," he said, "they want just to live in peace and protect the people they care about."

"But I don't understand. If they have power.... at least tell me who some of the more powerful are. They may be persuaded to..."

"Morgana!" he interrupted, angrily, the use of her first name on his lips shocking her to attention, "we are good friends because I keep your secrets. You cannot be angry because I keep the secrets of others as well."

"You're right, of course," she conceded after a moment, "it just seems so sad and so... pointlessly lonely... if we are all hiding from each other as well as from Uther."

"It is the wisest course, My Lady. They do not want violence; it's not what they believe their power is for. And if one of them were discovered and they knew of your association..."

"Of course. You are a loyal friend, Merlin." She smiled a full broad smile then. "Are we such good friends?"

He grinned. "Of course. Now please take your draught. If not for yourself, at least for... a concerned friend."

She nodded and drank it down more to please him than in a belief that it would do her any good.

"Morgana," he said, at the door, "is it Morgause you feel so connected to? Is that why you asked?"

She nodded and he pursed his lips in apparent concern and returned the nod.

"I hope then that she doesn't have magic to use against Arthur tomorrow. I have already approached her to withdraw but she refused."

"Why did you do that?"

"Arthur asked me to. He does not want to kill a woman."

Morgana thought of the skilled determination of the woman she'd seen training in the Courtyard.

"He may not win so easily," she said softly.

"Of course he will," replied Merlin with a grin, "he's Arthur."

He left and, heartened and strangely cheered by the conversation, she changed into her nightgown and crawled into her soft bed...

... and woke up screaming; the image of a black-cloaked faceless Knight driving a sword toward her neck replaying in her mind.

She was going to die. She was sure of it. And it was going to be by Uther's hand. Of that also she was certain.


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N *sigh* So hopeless at holding back chapters I've written. I hope you enjoy. Still enjoying the tropical weather even if it's not conducive to writing. Did I mention I can see the ocean from my balcony? LOL**

**

* * *

**

How should we choose our heroes? By their power or how they choose to wield it?

**Part 2**

Morgana walked down to the training field where Leon was taking the new Knights through a practice drill. They had been intended originally as a supplement to Camelot's fighting force but were now, one and all, replacements for the Knights that Morgause had killed.

_I should care about that,_ Morgana thought, _I should care that she has struck a blow against Camelot, against us. _

She had dressed her hair with great care and had chosen a gown she knew Leon liked; the purple and green one that was also her favourite. Some other ladies of the Court stood around the practice field; prepared to bestow their favour on any young Knight that pleased them. Morgana did not join them often but her behaviour would still not be seen as unusual.

Men fought and woman admired. Nearly all the bizarre behaviours of Court life spun on the edge of that pin. It kept the men motivated and the woman dependent. It was the lifeblood of their culture. It had annoyed Morgana so much when she was younger that she had wanted to scream. Even when she had come to accept the inevitability of it, there was a small still part of herself waiting to cry out against it.

Maybe that was why she was so attracted to Morgause. She was so free.

She steered her mind clear of the mysterious woman who had come and then left and whose summons had sent Arthur off in search of her. Something had happened in the Throne Room and she wanted to know what. And the admiration of a woman for a fighting man was the greatest permissible weapon she had been given. And she did know how to use it.

_

* * *

_

Six days before

The candle was blazing, even though it had been snuffed before she went to bed, and it all became clear. She had been scared in her dream, just as she was scared in Aeridian's chambers. The magic was linked somehow to her emotions. It was why she couldn't yet control it and why it flared during the terror she endured in her sleep.

She lay, her hair sprawled dark across the white pillows and looked blearily at the dancing flame near her window through exhausted eyes. Her nightmares were a conduit to her magic; a conduit to her fears. But they could also expose her. They were a threat.

She sighed. Why could nothing be easy? She needed to find a way to access her power that did not involve terror. Maybe if the nightmares were gone that would be easier. Maybe she could channel the magic needed for those pointless visions into a power she could access with her conscious mind.

It was near dawn so she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. She lay there, eyes determinedly shut, until Gwen slid quietly into the room to start her day.

"Did you sleep at all, My Lady?" she asked, concerned by the lit candle flickering in the lightening room.

"A little, Gwen, thank you for asking. It looks as though the rain has gone."

"Yes," agreed her maid, looking at the pinkish dawn peeping above the horizon, "it should be a fine day."

Morgana looked out her window to the bright clear morning. "The storm has washed all that bleakness away."

She thought of the images of death she had seen; so many and in such quick succession and all implying her own demise. If only she could find her storm. Then she too could wash away the things that plagued her.

The day was as bright as the beautiful dawn had signalled when Morgana made her way to the tournament stands and the autumnal chill that had rolled in with the rain seemed to have been temporarily banished.

Morgana took her place, looking around at the strangely subdued crowd and pondered that their usual thirst for blood seemed absent. They did not like this Morgause or her challenge.

The woman in question stood waiting in the centre of the List field clad in armour; her slight form swallowed in the enclosing metal. She did not look dangerous but Morgana had seen the determination in the woman the night before and was well aware that appearances could be deceptive. Consider Merlin and all he had achieved. No one looking at him would suspect the knightly soul that sat beneath his slight exterior.

Uther walked into the stands and stood in his place beside her; trying to catch her eyes, not persisting when she determinedly looked away. Nothing had ever been said but she caught him looking at her sadly sometimes and knew he regretted what the Witchfinder had put her through. _It was not Aeridian but you who did this to me,_ she thought, _to me and to Gaius. Your regrets cannot change that. And you have not once apologised. _

She saw a faceless Knight drive a sword toward her neck; a body burning in a boat dressed in her clothes. _One day he is going to finish Aeridian's work. If I can't find a way to access and control my magic, I am going to die_.

She focussed back on the challenge as Arthur entered the Lists to a roar from the devoted crowd. They loved their Prince. Unlike other city states where there were pitched battles over who would rule with every King that died, his ascension to the throne would likely be uncontested.

Morgana clapped reflexively; uncertain who she wished to win this contest. To see a Knight of Camelot beaten by a woman and a woman she felt such a kinship with, oh, that would be wonderful. But she did not wish Arthur dead; could not even imagine a world where that was so.

Uther outlined the rules of the contest; the knightly code they would be fighting under, the death at the end. Morgana stood in great ambivalence until the swords flew at each other and the fight had begun.

Any hope of the crowd that their Prince would be quickly victorious was soon quashed as Morgause easily parried his first aggressive thrust and struck back with an attack of her own. She forced Arthur back a few steps until he recovered and deflected her onslaught.

The two warriors circled each other warily for a moment; assessing the information they had gathered in their initial assaults. Then Morgause attacked again; taking the offensive with a belligerent assertiveness. Arthur backed away to regain his footing and then surged forward, assailing his opponent with blow after vicious blow. This was where his superior strength came into play; each slamming impact driving her sword to the dirt.

His blade thuddered into Morgause's; driving her weapon from her hand and cutting her in the same motion. Morgana, completely caught up now in the contest, leaned forward in concern; wondering if Arthur would place the killing blow.

Instead, the noble Knight of Camelot stepped back and gestured for her to pick up her sword; a gesture that earned him applause from the crowd. Morgana shifted to the edge of her seat; the thrill of the battle sweeping her up.

Morgause regained her sword, but not the advantage, as the fight began anew and she was driven back toward the wooden edge of the stands; her mobility constrained by the barrier. Arthur drew back his sword to drive home the deathly winning blow and brought it down toward his opponent.

Within seconds, the fight turned.

Morgana was stunned at the suddenness of the reversal. One minute Arthur's blade was gliding through the air toward Morgause. The next it hit wood with a thud as she twisted away from his steel, kicked him off his feet and brought her sword to his chest. Suddenly, improbably, she had won.

Morgana tensed. She wouldn't really do it, surely. Arthur could not die today. _In all her terrible dreams, she had never seen this. It would not happen. It could not happen. Surely it could not happen._

Morgause reached up and grasped her helmet, pulling it off with one violent move and turning back to Arthur, her blonde hair flying free. She spoke to him softly; the deathly silence of the crowd meaning her whisper could be heard even if the words themselves were not. Then she pulled back, sheathed her blade, gave a short perfunctory bow to the King and left the field to Arthur's humiliation and the crowd's shock.

Somehow she had won and, in sparing Arthur's life, she had exposed the King to ridicule and malicious gossip. Morgana didn't think she had met anyone more impressive in all her life.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N Hope this is not chapter overload but if I don't post, my place is never going to get cleaned this weekend. GuildedDragonfly: I don't know how you're not producing a chapter every half hour with that weather LOL. **

**

* * *

**

**How should we choose our heroes? By their power or how they choose to wield it?**

**Part 3**

The Knights moved fluidly through their drills; impressive and skilled and boring. Morgana wondered how much longer it would be before she could speak to Leon as she had planned. As she stood there, her mind wandering away from the parading males, she reflected back on the last few days.

_

* * *

_

Five days before

"Morgana," said a voice, from far away, "My Lady Morgana."

Morgana stirred, becoming slowly aware of the bed and the room and the insistent shaking of her shoulder.

"Morgana."

She opened her eyes, realising that it was Gwen trying to wake her. She sighed.

"I was fast asleep."

"It's nearly midday," noted Gwen. Morgana looked at her disbelievingly and sat up; hearing now the bells pealing out to signify the sun was at its height.

"I can't remember the last time I slept so well."

"Well, I'll fetch you some clothes," said Gwen with a compassionate smile and she went to the dressing room to prepare her mistress for the day.

Morgana sat there in confusion for a while, looking around the bright daylight of the room, before her eyes alighted on the bracelet. Morgause's bracelet. She had left it for her and it was that that had helped her sleep. She was sure of it.

She picked it up, wondering if it was ensorcelled, wondering if she was right about Morgause being an enchantress. She pondered the beautiful forbidden thing for a moment then slipped it on her wrist. If it helped rid her of her nightmares, then it was worth it. Her confusion at the woman offering her a family heirloom was gone. For some reason she chose now to accept rather than to question, Morgause was somebody she trusted.

_

* * *

_

Six days before

Morgana knocked a few times and opened the door. She tentatively entered the room; her white dress trailing along the stone floor. She had smiled to herself when Gwen had picked it out for her to wear that morning. It was the dress she had worn to Uther's wedding; the one she still had strange daydreams about.

Those dreams were forgotten as she entered Morgause's chambers; not entirely certain why she was there. The battle was over but her curiosity about the connection she felt to the woman remained.

Morgause walked in from the dressing room and stopped still when she saw the other woman. Now the battle was over, she had changed from her armour but still wore the men's clothes she seemed to prefer. They were clothes Morgana preferred herself; despite her plethora of dresses.

"I didn't mean to intrude," she said, slightly off balance. Morgause's eyes flicked in surprised and she approached the other woman cautiously.

"I wanted to introduce myself, I'm the Lady Morgana."

"I know who are," replied Morgause and she walked towards Morgana, a cautious look on her face as though appraising her.

"How is your arm?" asked Morgana, for something to say, "you were wounded."

"It will heal soon enough."

Morgause's expression changed from appraisal to concern and she came closer as she stated, "you look tired."

"I haven't been sleeping," said Morgana cautiously, feeling somehow as though the other woman knew of her dreams; her visions and her nightmares.

"I know for myself how troubling that can be."

"Could it be that we've met somewhere before," braved Morgana.

Morgause shook her head, "But I'm glad we've met now."

She turned away and Morgana's eyes dropped to the bracelet on her arm.

"That's a beautiful bracelet."

Morgause surveyed the jewellery, a ghost of a smile on her face.

"It was a gift... from my mother," she said quietly. "Please, I would like you to have it."

She slipped it off her wrist and handed it over.

"It's a healing bracelet. It will help you sleep."

Morgana shook her head; astounded that she would be offered a family heirloom from a woman she just met. Could it be the strange connection she felt was mutual?

"I couldn't," she managed, feeling a sudden urge to be away from this confusion, "you must be tired, I'll leave you to rest."

She turned to leave.

"I hope you will remember me fondly," said Morgause.

Morgana managed a nod and fled.

_

* * *

_

Two days before

"Merlin!" she exclaimed, her delight in seeing him warring with her surprise as he pelted by her. He was incredibly fast when he put his mind to it.

"Merlin, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

He turned around to face her, still running backward toward the Keep.

"I can't talk," he said, "I've got to find him, I've got to stop him."

"Find who? Stop what? Merlin!"

"I'm sorry, Milady, I must go."

He turned around, his feet wrapping around each other causing him to fly to the ground. Used to falling over, he was quickly back up onto his feet and sprinting away.

She gave his clumsy retreating form an affectionate smile, which quickly faded. If Merlin was here then Arthur had returned from his meeting with Morgause. Merlin's haste could only mean that the 'him' he had to 'stop' was Arthur.

She changed direction and walked determinedly after him. Something was happening and it involved the people she most cared about. She needed to find out what it was.

_

* * *

_

Five days before

There was a knock at her door. Morgana opened it to see Gaius; her heart gladdening at the sight of the beloved old man.

"My dear, I brought you your sleeping draught," he said, moving into the room; the vial clutched in his hand.

"I could have saved you the trouble," said Morgana spritely, "I had the best night's sleep I can remember."

"No nightmares?"

Morgana didn't even hesitate when answering; the physician being one man she truly trusted.

"I can't tell you what a relief it is. I only wish I could thank Morgause for her gift."

She fingered the bracelet on her wrist, surprised at the look on Gaius' face.

"Morgause gave you that bracelet?" he asked.

"She told me it would help me sleep, she spoke the truth. Gaius, what is it?"

"Nothing," he lied, trying a smile to cover his falsehood, "I'm merely surprised that it's so effective."

"I feel as if I somehow know Morgause," she prompted, wondering if there really was a story here that they were just not telling her, wondering why a man she trusted had just lied to her.

"I don't see how," he replied surely, "but I'm pleased you're feeling better."

He left and she remained staring at the bracelet. Then she smiled in relief. Of course. It was magic. The bracelet was magic. Gaius was concerned for her; that was all. Dear old man.

_

* * *

_

Three days before

There was shouting in the Throne Room again and Morgana wondered if Arthur and his father were still at odds over his loss to Morgause. She wouldn't put it past Uther to blame his son completely for the humiliation; giving Morgause's skills no credit.

She entered, curious, to find him yelling at Sir Leon.

"... and if you do not find him before he finds Morgause then... Morgana, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she said respectfully, "I heard shouting and I was concerned."

Uther's face softened at her tone. "That's quite alright, my dear, I'm just trying to find out why my incompetent Knights can't find my son."

"Find your son?" she asked, stunned. Had she been so absorbed in her own world she hadn't noticed the Crown Prince was _missing_, "I'm sorry, Sire, I've been... unwell... the last few days ... I didn't know Arthur had gone anywhere."

"My son has gone to that... witch... as part of some insane promise she extracted in exchange for not killing him. It is an obvious trap; a ruse to get him away from the safety of my protection and yet he went."

The words hit Morgana like a thunderbolt. Arthur gone and to Morgause?. What was going on?

"What could she possibly want with him?" she asked in shock.

"If I knew that, I would not be so concerned." He turned back to Leon. "Leave my sight but stand guard at the door in case we have news. And make sure your Knights understand the penalties for not finding my son."

"Yes, My Lord," said Leon with a bow.

He was standing dutifully at his post when Morgana left the room to return to her chambers.

_

* * *

_

Four days before

Two good nights' sleep. She could not remember when she had last felt so refreshed, so powerful, so free. She stood in her quarters, the unlit fireplace before her.

The nightmares were gone and she imagined the power needed for her to see the future soaring back through her veins to be used for other more productive ends. No matter how long it took or how long she had to stand in the chambers, those logs would burn.

_

* * *

_

One day before

The gossip flowed like wine through dry streets. No one knew what had happened for sure, just that something had. There had been an altercation between the King and his son but now the two were closer than they had been for months.

Morgana pondered the gossip. All she had seen when she had arrived at the Throne Room was an open door, a stunned Leon, and Arthur sobbing in his father's arms. She had never seen anything like it.

It had been a week of truly astounding revelations. For just that morning, in a fireplace near a table with some violets that she could not bring herself to throw out even though they were starting to wilt, a spark from her magic had lit a piece of kindling. Her time had finally begun.

* * *

"Sir Leon," she greeted him as he left the field.

"My Lady Morgana," he answered, always respectful, "what can I do for you, My Lady?"

"I was impressed with your performance today," she said, her eyes downcast, a shy smile on her face. She then angled her face up to meet his eyes with a bold gaze as though propositioning him, "I was wondering if you would accompany me back to the castle and take a glass of wine with me."

He smiled wryly in return.

"Morgana," he said, taking her hands in his, "don't try those tricks on me. I've known you since you were sent to me for training at the age of ten. I watched you learn these arts. I suggest you keep them for Arthur because they will not work on me."

She pulled her hands from him and crossed her arms, ignoring the impulse to stamp her foot in frustration. He was right, of course. Still, that bond between master and apprentice...

"I can't believe I trained with you so long ago. It seems like yesterday. I thought you were so mature and so handsome; the handsomest man I had ever seen. And such a fighter. Arthur and I wanted nothing more than to be a Knight like you."

He laughed at that, "And you were the fiercest child I have ever met. But I...I was only eighteen; barely a man.

"But a man nonetheless," she said, "I thought I had never met one as impressive as you."

"Oh Morgana," he sighed, "you are incorrigible. Fine. Your flattery has done its work. What do you wish from me?"

"I want to know what happened in the Throne Room when Arthur returned. I want to know why he was crying. I want to know why Uther suddenly trusts Merlin so implicitly. Please Leon."

"I'm sorry, My Lady, my oath forbids me from speaking of it."

"Leon, to all intents and purposes this is my father, my brother, and I have a right to know."

Leon stared at her upon hearing that statement, a flicker of emotions moving across his face. She could almost have sworn they were pride and... relief. She could not imagine what she had said that could cause either emotion but now he was looking at her knowingly with a small half smile hidden beneath his beard.

"Morgana, I cannot tell you. I am bound by oath to uphold the King's confidence despite the curiosity of his Ward."

"Fine," she said, angry at her failure and at him for being so patronisingly fatherly. It was one thing for Gaius to do it but he was only eight years her senior, "I will find out another way."

She turned to storm away but was stopped by him.

"I can tell you one thing, my Lady Morgana, and it is something that I believe will interest you. Something I think you should know."

She turned back, puzzled by the strangely inscrutable look in his face.

"What happened... well... I cannot tell you. But I can say that after Arthur there is only one man I admire."

"What do you mean?" she asked, more curious now than angry.

"Merlin, My Lady. I think that, if not for his birth, he would be a man I would be proud to call a friend. A man who embodies more of the qualities admired in a Knight than many of the noblemen I have served with. But he was born a peasant, unfortunately. But I think... I think I am not the only one who wishes that the world we live in could be... different."

He walked up to her and took her hands again. "The world is unfortunately as it is and we cannot change it. He is a servant. We are nobility. That is the way it is. But still," he smiled at her; one sweet smile, "it would be nice. Both for us and, I think, for him. I think."

She managed to get clear of the field and to her rooms without running but the urge to sprint through the corridors was almost overwhelming. She stood now in her chambers, her mind reeling with what Leon had just admitted. He had looked into her very soul and declared it looked the same as hers. And what he had said about Merlin...

She looked at the drooping violets in the vase. Whatever had happened in that room two days before, Merlin had been the hero once again and this time someone else had noticed. Someone who saw what she saw. Someone honourable and kind; someone who did not give his approval lightly. Someone who believed her feelings were reciprocated.

She walked over and touched the small purple flowers, the petals soft against her fingers. Leon was right. Merlin had no obligation to serve her, to do the small wonderful things he did for her. He chose to do them anyway.

That meant something. She was sure of it.


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N Remember, 'Challengers' is still going. Same prompt; very very different fics. Which is fascinating in and of itself.**

**Oh, and I'm getting up around the 100 review mark, which is very exciting. I was a bit worried at the beginning, as you know. I have to thank my great core of reviewers: Brickroad16, GuildedDragonfly, Catindahat, MegElemental, Chloris, sarahelizabeth1993 and even Helva2260, who finds it hard to review but does it anyway LOL. Thanks! **

**

* * *

**

A servant should be there when they are needed no matter how many masters they serve.

Morgana closed the windows and the dark curtains, determined to shut out the scene in the Courtyard even if she could not shut out the screams of the woman's family.

She was only 14 years old; to Morgana a mere child, to many others a woman old enough to be wed. And wed she had wanted to be. She had taken a bowl of water and was seen waving her hands across the top of it, incanting in a strange language. When arrested, she said that she was playing at scrying to see her future husband but had not seen anything. She had no magic and the words were ones she had made up. Uther had her executed anyway.

It has been like this since Morgause had lured Arthur away and returned him even more determined to follow in his father's footsteps. He and Uther were closer than they had ever been and the executions had gotten more frequent and more unfair.

She thought about what Merlin had said. There were sorcerers in Camelot; hidden and safe and able to protect themselves should Uther ever discover them. That made her even more convinced that the people burned and hung and beheaded and beaten and imprisoned and tortured were either innocent or so powerless as to be no threat.

She sighed in impotent fury and lit a candle with her magic to distract herself from the pointless death outside her window.

She could not do much with her power yet, but enough that she felt she was gaining some control. Control over her magic meant control over her life. Control over her magic meant what was happening outside her window could never happen to her.

_Just let that ruthless bastard try_.

For the first time in months, she had argued with Uther. They had brawled like they had in days of old about the girl outside her window. Morgana had stormed into the Solar and berated him, her new skills giving her confidence. He had not listened, of course. He was too busy trying to find some escaped Druid girl for a disgusting bounty hunter named Halig.

The man smelled of sour beer and sweat and meat and had leered at her when she passed him in the hall. As far as she was concerned, any girl who escaped from his clutches should be congratulated and helped upon her way. Possibly with a parade.

She had considered protesting to Arthur as she once would have done but he was in the room when she had argued with Uther and his father's son had given his consent through silence. The mystery of what had happened when he fled to Morgause remained unsolved but the outcome was clear; Morgana had lost one potential ally in a Kingdom of enemies.

Her eyes fell upon the empty vase on the table next to her fireplace and she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. She tried so hard not to care about something so comparatively trivial but Merlin had not been to see her the last few days.

Only a few weeks after she had decided that he must have feelings for her, he had suddenly stopped coming. She had tried to tell herself it was because he felt the situation was as hopeless as she did but remained unconvinced.

No matter how many times she gave herself the lecture on the 'Problem with Merlin and Morgana', she still could not help seeking him out. Just yesterday, she'd tried to casually find out where he was from Arthur. The Prince had rather bizarrely changed the subject to a discussion on whether he was fat. She didn't think she'd improved the situation by noting that she preferred her men leaner.

Surely if Merlin felt the same way as her, then nothing could distract him from her side. He would, like her, be unable to be apart from her for too long. She missed so much his evening visits, the wildflowers he had picked himself, the ear she had to talk about her magic.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," she berated her image in her mirror, "how can you congratulate yourself on your newfound power when you spend half your time mooning about a skinny servant with a bad haircut."

She grabbed her cloak and went out into the damp autumn day for a walk to clear her head.

* * *

"Morgana," said an ironic voice behind her as she returned from a wet walk, "have you been swimming?"

She turned to face Arthur, trying to ignore his very accurate remark about just how wet she'd gotten on her walk.

"Arthur dear, have you been eating too much again today. You look like you've put on some weight."

"Very funny," he said with a sardonic look, "but I've little chance to eat at all since Merlin started stealing my food."

"Merlin is stealing your food?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, he says it's to keep me 'fighting fit'. I told him I already was but my food continues to go missing. Speaking of my idiot servant, have you seen him?'

"Why would I have seen your servant. Arthur? Surely it's your job to keep a track of him yourself."

"Trust me, I am trying. But when he's not stealing my food or helping you hide runaway Druid boys or bringing you flowers or, apparently, wearing dresses, he's nowhere to be found."

"What?"

"Oh yes, Morgana, dresses. I caught him with a lovely one this afternoon. Well, if you haven't gotten the smitten boy involved in one of your nefarious schemes, I'll look elsewhere."

"Firstly, I am never involved in _nefarious schemes_ and secondly Merlin is hardly smitten – or a crossdresser."

"Trust me, Morgana, you would do better to find some Knightly paramour to swoon over. It would stop his tiresome worship of you. Worship, I might add, that could get him imprisoned should Uther ever find out. And if he isn't crossdressing, I'd like to know what he was doing with that dress."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Arthur, on either subject."

"Stop trifling with his emotions, Morgana. I know how much you enjoy having every man in the Kingdom mooning over you but surely someone as simple as Merlin deserves better than that."

_Simple_? _Mooning?_ She looked at him for a moment, trying to find a response that did not communicate her anger over what he was saying about Merlin... and failing.

"Arthur Pendragon, you... are a _prat_. And a fool."

She stormed off, ignoring the thoroughly confused look on the Prince's face. She reached her chambers and threw open the door, slamming it shut behind her in anger.

"Morgana," said Gwen's sweet calm voice, "are you alright?"

She sighed and forced a calm mask to cover her agitated face.

"I'm fine, Gwen. I'm just a bit upset about the execution and Arthur... oh, he makes me so _angry_."

"Morgana," chided Gwen, "I really don't think you should blame Arthur for..."

"Blame Arthur for what? For standing by while innocent children are _murdered_ for a childish game? For maligning his most loyal servant constantly; constantly refusing to see how lucky he is to have someone like Merlin to..."

"My Lady, he is the Crown Prince. He has greater responsibilities than you and I and he needs a servant he can rely on. Of course, Merlin is that person but sometimes he can get... distracted."

Morgana took a deep breath to calm down. The last thing she needed was Gwen telling Arthur how upset his comments about Merlin had made her.

"How he treats Merlin is not why I'm angry, of course. I'm angry about the execution and Arthur's continued... _Arthurness_. He accused Merlin of stealing his food."

Gwen laughed. "I don't know about food but Merlin did take one of your dresses."

"What?"

"This afternoon. I walked in and he was by the wardrobe, twirling around with one of your dresses. Then he said it was infested with moths and it had to be burnt or we'd all end up walking around naked."

Morgana couldn't help a barking laugh; the likes of which she had not heard from herself in a long time. She could imagine just how Merlin had said it; although it was still a mystery as to what he'd need with a..._ Oh Gods. Merlin. Food. Dresses. Druid girl. Protecting sorcerers. By the Gods, Merlin, you wouldn't be so stupid, surely._ But she knew he would.

"Gwen," she inquired, suddenly serious, "what dress was it?"

"Your favourite one, I'm afraid," replied Gwen, who hadn't sensed the change in mood and was still laughing, "the purple and green one."

_It wasn't her. It wasn't her in the dress. It was this girl, this Druid girl. That's where Merlin had been the last few days, trying to help this poor hunted girl. But she would be the one to burn, burn in Morgana's dress. That's what the dream had meant._

She looked at Gwen and opened her mouth to tell her. And shut it again. Merlin was right about that too. The less people knew about a sorcerer the safer they and the sorcerer were.

She looked out the window and saw that it was nearly dark. She had to dine with Uther and his son tonight and, if she remembered correctly...

"Gwen, are you and Merlin tending to us at dinner tonight?"

"Yes. The King requested royal servants only as he was concerned about this monster still terrorising the Lower Town. He wanted to be sure all those who live in the Lower Town had the chance to make their way there before nightfall. It means I will have to stay in your rooms tonight."

"Of course, Gwen. In fact, we should prepare now for the meal. Can you get me some more appropriate attire; I'm completely wet."

"Yes My Lady," said Gwen, with a smile, "just not your favourite dress, I'm afraid. Lord knows what Merlin's doing with _that._"

"Well, if it suits my complexion it will undoubtedly suit his," laughed Morgana, feeling the crossdressing theory was as good a one as any to promote. _Your manservant, with a history of helping fugitives, starts stealing food and dresses at the same time a Druid girl goes missing and you don't realise he's helping her. Gods, Arthur, how stupid are you_?

Morgana changed quickly out of her wet clothes and then prepared to dine with Uther. It was not going to be a pleasant dinner but there was one benefit to it. Merlin would be there and she could follow him afterwards to see where he was hiding this Druid girl and then devise a plan to get her out of Camelot safely.

And afterward she would let her love know exactly how she felt about him being such a heroic _idiot_.


	19. Chapter 18

**Was it all just his duty after all?**

"That's because you're not like Merlin," she'd said; purely trying to manipulate him into helping kill the creature that plagued them. "He's a lover."

The remains of Arthur's leftover breakfast were strewn messily across the table, the Afanc was in the water supply, and Gwen was in prison.

"Poor Merlin," she'd said, "offering to give up his life for Gwen's. I certainly can't imagine anyone loving me like that."

* * *

Dinner was neverending. For a man who had just executed a child, and who still had a beast prowling his streets at night killing his citizens, Uther seemed in a surprisingly good mood. Course after course was served and consumed with jugs of mead and wine.

Arthur was getting into the spirit of his father's mood but was slipping the King quizzical glances nonetheless.

"Is there a reason for this... frivolity?" he asked finally, "it seems a strange time to be having a celebration. In fact, I thought this quiet family meal was a deliberate attempt to _not_ have a celebration."

Uther smiled at his son and took a large swallow of wine.

"The work I have undertaken on negotiating peace between our neighbours has finally come to fruition, Arthur," replied Uther, happily, "after five long years of talks, Alined, Olaf and the other rulers of the five Kingdoms have agreed to come to Camelot to finalise a peace agreement between all of us. Now that Hengist is dead and our peace with Mercia stays strong, the Knights of Camelot shall no more be forced to battle constantly with those along our borders."

Arthur smiled, 'that is good news indeed, My Lord."

"What about Cenred's Kingdom?" asked Morgana, unable to help herself, "it lies along our borders, does it not?"

"True," replied Uther, evenly. He had obviously decided he was not going to let her carping ruin his mood. "Cenred remains our enemy but he is increasingly isolated. One day, we will bring him to the negotiation table or conquer him. It is just a matter of time.

"Now please, drink and eat. I may not have been able to celebrate this achievement the way I would have wished but celebrate it I will."

As the hour grew later, Morgana flicked a glance to Merlin who she could see was getting impatient. _He definitely planned on bringing his fugitive the food and clothing this evening. Now he's stuck here pandering to the man who wants to kill her. As am I._

When the bells struck midnight, they were still at the table with a very jovial Uther and a very drunk Arthur. When Merlin was forced to refill Uther's glass again, Morgana intervened.

"Well, My Lord, I really must to bed. I have had very little sleep lately and must rest. Arthur, with this beast roaming the town, don't you think you should go to bed as well?"

"Yes, Arthur, Morgana's right. It has been a pleasant interlude from reality but we really must be ready to find this creature should it attack again. Speaking of which, it is late and there are few people about. Guinevere and Merlin, please escort Morgana and Arthur to their chambers and make sure they arrive there safely. Good night."

And he walked off, blithely unaware of how he had ruined Morgana's plans. Yet again.

Gwen and Morgana walked off tiredly toward her chambers; the late night affecting both of them.

"Gwen."

"Yes, Morgana."

"I have been having so much trouble sleeping lately," she lied.

"Yes My Lady, I know."

"I have decided that if I wake early and cannot get back to sleep that I will go for a walk instead of lying in bed fixating on the fact that I cannot sleep."

"I think that's a wonderful idea. A walk in the fresh air can be better than anything for the constitution."

"I agree. So, if you wake and I am gone..."

"Yes My Lady. Thank you for telling me so that I do not worry."

They got back to her chambers and after Gwen's work was done, Morgana got back out of bed, dressed in warm men's clothes, pulled her red cloak over the top, and hoped that Gwen did not wake before dawn. And then she left.

* * *

It had been a bit of fun on a rainy afternoon about, oh, a year ago. Back when Morgana was satisfied with her lot in life and she suspected Gwen had a crush on Arthur's manservant, Merlin. One of the Court ladies had expressed her deep love for Sir Percival.

Naturally, Percival's preference for men being so marked, this had caused them some amusement so they had started a game.

'How would you seduce Percival?' had, with the aid of some wine and time, quickly degenerated into 'How would you seduce..." any man they could think of and Morgana and Gwen and the three other supposed Ladies had been reduced to fits of laughter by some of the responses.

"How would you seduce... Merlin?" Morgana had asked with a cheeky grin to her now-blushing maidservant.

"My Lady, Merlin is a sweet and... ordinary... man. I don't think that..."

"Come on Gwen. You must have given it some thought."

"No, My lady, honestly I..."

"Don't give me that, Gwen. I know how you look at him. Mind you, since he was willing to die for love, I'm half inclined to look his way myself."

"Morgana!"

"I'm only kidding. Now come on. How would you seduce Merlin?"

And Gwen had paused and pulled her lip between her teeth and looked around the circle of ladies and then smiled shyly.

"Damsel in distress," she said.

"Damsel in distress?" queried Morgana.

"Oh yes, My Lady, every time. Give Merlin someone he needs to rescue and protect and he will be theirs. Trust me."

"Damsel in distress," said Morgana, thoughtfully, "I don't think I could pull it off."

* * *

As dawn broke, Morgana stood hidden outside of Gaius' chambers waiting for Merlin to emerge.

_A woman burning in a boat; dressed in her favourite gown. She had pale skin, black hair. It made sense I thought it was me. I have to stop it anyway, _she thought, _because of the dream. I'm... obligated..._ and then in a quieter, more distant part of herself, _Oh Merlin, why didn't you just ask me for help? _Protecting the identity of sorcerers was one thing but they had done these things before and together. What had changed?

There was a clattering as Merlin stumbled down several stairs, laden down with her dress and some food. He pulled himself short on the bottom step before he overbalanced, looked at his feet, put his finger to his mouth and breathed, "shoosh". _Stealthy, Merlin. Very stealthy._

He headed off across the courtyard, seemingly toward the Lower Town, but just after crossing through the castle gates he veered off and down into the catacombs where Camelot's water flowed. It was the tunnels where they'd defeated the Afanc; the first time Morgana had really looked at Arthur's manservant and seen something she hadn't expected to see.

She hurried after him as he disappeared, then cursed as she entered. He had obviously lit a torch but was already ploughing into the maze of tunnels and it was pitch black without illumination. She hurried on, keeping the small bright reflection of his torch in sight as she moved down stairways and along ancient hallways.

The flickering of the torch steadied and she realised he had stopped somewhere. She closed her eyes and concentrated, hoping to hear his voice in the silence of the morning. There it was; a small reverberating sound of voices. She moved quickly down the steps, trying desperately not to make any noise.

He was so determined to protect sorcerers even from each other. If she confronted him, he would deny her existence or lie to her. Once she had seen the Druid girl with her own eyes, it would be impossible for him to deny her existence or her need. He would have to accept her help.

"Believe me," she thought she heard Merlin's voice say, "it was not easy getting _this_."

"It's beautiful," replied a mellow female voice. _Yes, it's beautiful,_ she thought, _it's mine._

"You look like a Princess," he said and she nearly stopped short at the admiration in his voice. _Oh great, a beautiful helpless Druid girl. Just what I need_.

There was a long pause and then the girl replied bluntly, "I'm not. I can't take this."

"Freya, I don't understand."

"You keep doing all this for me. I don't deserve it."

Morgana stopped still at the top of the stairs. They were just down there and around the corner. Their voices had dropped and she could not longer make out the content of their conversation. Still, there was something strange here. _It's in the tone of their voices. Undertones._

"Alright," exclaimed Merlin, suddenly, loudly and then his voice dropped again.

She sneaked a peak around the corner and saw him standing there, his back to her. The Druid girl, whom he had called Freya, was in front of him; all rags and dirt and helplessness and beauty. As Morgana watched, stunned and confused, he made the arrangements for them to leave Camelot together and then leaned forward and kissed Freya as Morgana had always imagined he would kiss her.

And she turned and she ran, just as the warning bell pealed through the still morning air. There had been another attack. And she couldn't care less.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N To think I originally planned this as one chapter per episode. Hah! **

**So, I've decided I hate the name 'I Love to Serve'. It sounds like a comedy of mistaken identity by Oscar Wilde or something. I'm looking for a new name so please PM me suggestions. And then you will get virtual cookies. But probably no Bollywood dance sequence...****

* * *

**

**Does your servant serve out of love or does he just love to serve?**

It was a beautiful morning, really. Autumn had set in and the small signs of a cold and bleak winter could already be seen in the frost that formed on the cobblestones before dawn and the late hour before the sun revealed its presence.

On this morning, however, the clouds of the day before had cleared and the sun was shining down on Camelot as though the summer had not yet gone.

The warning bell was pealing as Morgana ran through the streets to her chambers; her mind reeling with what she had just seen. Everything that she had convinced herself to be true was a lie; everything she had thought about her life was false. Merlin did not care about her; did not love her.

His small acts of service, his support and friendship, his concern for her wellbeing, they were all just a job, a duty; things he felt he _should_ do. And she, like an idiot, had built their relationship in her own head to something bigger, something grander; the delusion of a great forbidden love in a hostile world.

To think it was less than a day since _she_ had called _Arthur_ a fool.

She fought a battle with her mind but could not stop it relaying the images, the conversation. Merlin planning to leave Camelot. The kiss; as sweet and soft and pure as she had long imagined theirs would be. It was all just so Merlin. _Damn him._

She was the Lady Morgana, the First woman of the Kingdom and its most beautiful. Men were lined up to worship her. How dare a _servant_, a skinny, gangly, big-eared, funny-faced _servant _prefer another to her? How could it be possible that he would even _notice_ another woman when she was in his world? It was preposterous. It was unthinkable.

It was the truth. She had seen it with her own eyes.

He was leaving Camelot; abandoning Arthur to whom his loyalty was supposed to be a magnificent and incontestable thing, abandoning Gwen, abandoning Gaius, abandoning _her._ How dare he?

She took one step toward the Throne Room to tell Uther where his missing Druid girl was, then veered back toward her own chambers. She was angry at him but she didn't want him dead.

The King's very angry Ward threw open the door to her chambers, stormed on in, then stood in the centre of the main room uncertain what to do with her fury. To her right, a spark flared in the bare hearth of the fireplace and the wicks of several candles burst alight with her anger. She spied the sad and empty vase on the table channelled her temper toward it; feeling the power it sparked flow through her. The vase exploded in a way that she could only describe as satisfying.

"My Lady?" said a voice from the other room, "My Lady, is that you?"

Gwen walked through from the other room; her eyes taking in the candles and fireplace and the broken vase.

"My Lady, are you alright?"

"No, Gwen," she answered honestly. She could not hide her anger so it was best to use it, "my walk did not work and I find I am getting infuriated by my lack of sleep. Let us go for a ride, shall we? Perhaps the exercise will wear me out and I can get some rest this afternoon?"

"Of course, My Lady," said Gwen sympathetically, "let me get your riding habit prepared and we will go."

This would work, she thought. She would get out of Camelot for a day. And if Merlin was gone when she returned then it was all for the good. She was better off never seeing his deceitful face again.

* * *

The sun was setting when Morgana and Gwen thundered back toward Camelot. Gwen disliked riding and did not have much skill but Morgana felt refreshed. She had not slept now in nearly two days but felt strangely unaffected.

Maybe it was the feeling of invigoration flowing through her veins from her magics; maybe she was just so tired her body had forgotten how to sleep. Either way, Gwen was starting to make noises about her getting some rest; noises that Morgana was trying to ignore.

It was dark by the time the two clattered into the city; although still only four or so hours after midday. The streets were nearly deserted as people packed up their business for the day and went inside early to escape from the cold black of a late autumn night.

As they moved through the streets toward the stables; Morgana suddenly saw a sight that made her heart freeze. The Druid girl, still dressed in her conspicuous rags, was sidling across the cobbles in a direction that would take her to the main gates. _What is she doing? Why is she still here? There's no way she'll make it out of Camelot alone._

Morgana's dream flashed through her mind. _A body in a boat. Her dress. Burning. _She had been so angry and so upset she had forgotten why she had followed Merlin in the first place. But then, they were leaving together. That should have stopped the dream from coming true. Why was she still here and where was Merlin?

What had the girl said? _"You keep doing all this for me. I don't deserve it."_

It had stuck in Morgana's head because it sounded so much like Merlin and because she couldn't imagine at any stage thinking that she didn't deserve the things that Merlin did. She always thought she deserved everything she got. Now she wondered if Freya had done something stupid; like give in to her own self-loathing and run from him. _Stupid girl._

"Gwen," she said, "you're right about my lack of sleep. I am suddenly so tired I can barely keep my eyes open." She slid off her horse and handed her maid the reigns. "Can you take the horses to the stables and give them to the grooms? I will make my way home and rest."

"Of course, My Lady, I think that's a very good idea."

"Thank you Gwen. Oh, and Gwen. I won't need at all tomorrow. I am determined to keep to my own devices away from distractions. Please spend some time in your own home. You must miss it."

"Thank you," said Gwen with a smile and went on her way.

Morgana's face set with purpose and she set off after Freya. Stupid girl was going to get herself killed. _And you were so caught up in your own feelings that you nearly let it happen_.

"Oh, shut up, conscience," she muttered to herself, "I'm sick of you."

* * *

Morgana gave up. She had been searching for almost an hour with no luck. The girl really was very good at hiding. She sighed and headed toward her Chambers, wondering why she was so terrible at doing the right thing. She should go and speak to Merlin of course, but she just felt so betrayed. She couldn't do it; not yet.

She walked into her rooms and looked sadly at the broken vase. She'd dragged Gwen out this morning before it could be cleaned up and now its shattered shards spoke volumes of her anger. An innocent girl could die because of that anger. She could not be blamed for any of this.

There was a part of Morgana, a small, deep part, that wondered if she'd forgotten her purpose because she'd wanted to. _You wanted her dead, didn't you?_ it whispered, _she's your rival and now she'll be out of the way._

"Damn it," cursed Morgana. She looked out at the moon and then at the bed. With the guards combing the town for this girl, there was no point in her blundering around the streets for hours on end.

She stretched fully-clothed out on her bed staring at the sky through her window. The bright moon burned into her eyes; making her think of a poor lost girl in Camelot's streets so illuminated by that glare. _They would find her and she would die._

The thought had barely made its way through her mind before the warning bells began to ring.

She leapt off the bed and ran out of the castle and into the Lower Town. She moved through Camelot's streets, silent and sure; trying to find the girl before Halig got his filthy hands on her again and Uther executed her for whatever pointless crime she had committed. _She's a Druid. Her crime was being born_.

A shadow flicked on a nearby wall and she haltered; peering into the darkness. There it was again; a shadow moving toward the Courtyard. Morgana stepped forward to approach the girl then pulled back as a group of guards yelled, "there she is!" and began to pursue her.

Morgana ducked behind some barrels and then inched out as they ran after Freya; silently following them. She stopped and hid again as they cornered the girl in a dead end. _Oh Gods no,_ she thought, as Arthur appeared; taking control of the guards and approaching the girl.

"Please let me go," begged Freya.

The guards didn't respond; just pulled back to let Halig pass through their ranks. He had a smug and self-satisfied look on his disgusting face.

"No one escapes from me," he said gleefully; pulling some chains from his shoulder and preparing to shackle the girl.

Morgana took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do. She had to use her magic. She had to save the girl. She'd never directed her power against a person before but Halig was so loathsome that perhaps it would be easy.

She girded her loins and... _Merlin! Oh Gods, Merlin was here. _She saw him creep behind the guards and look sadly at the situation, trying to work out what to do. If she used her magic, he would know it was her. Would he protect her? A day ago she would have said yes, but now?

Halig approached Freya with the chains as the bells chimed midnight. The Druid girl looked at the sky and _screamed_ and Morgana crouched there in shock as the girl's face and limbs distorted and lengthened; her skin changing to an eerie black, like a cat's fur, her teeth growing into fangs, her back sprouting wings.

This was the magical beast that had been stalking Camelot; this was the creature for whom the bells had tolled. Did Merlin know?

Halig pulled out two knives and the guards braced themselves for a fight. The beast ignored the men of Camelot and instead launched itself at Halig; exacting its revenge on him. Its nemesis out of the way, it turned to the guards, hissing and screeching in warning. Arthur leaned forward and slashed the creature down its side; slicing it near its heart and cutting the top of its leg. It sat back on its haunches and then flew over him and limped into the Courtyard; obviously in pain from Arthur's strike. It crawled into a corner and tried to hide there but was quickly surrounded by Knights and guards.

It mewled and Morgana saw the girl trapped inside. She was in there; helpless and beset. Halig had been right all along; she truly was cursed.

Morgana wondered what, if anything, she could do to help the situation when she saw Merlin _the idiot. Gods, what a heroic idiot_ run in and stand behind the guards; his face a mask hiding pain and indecision. _If Arthur sees you, there will be questions, Merlin. For God's sake, hide._

He had such drive to help people, to save them. She saw now that that at least was real. He may not have felt for her as she did for him but his motives were pure. Of course they were. He had done as much or more for her as he had done for this Freya. And he had cared enough about this girl to consider leaving Camelot.

Arthur moved toward the beast and it howled and hissed to try to scare him away but he could see it was injured and it didn't work. It _she, there's a girl in there_ tried to limp out of the way and then its eyes spied Merlin and it mewled in a way that could almost be described as pleading. Even in this state, it recognised him and the pain on his face as a result was heartbreaking.

As the creature limped backward toward a cart, Merlin's face firmed into grim decision. He had made a decision; that much she knew. But even in her wildest imagination, in her darkest nightmares, in her craziest dreams, even in her most far-fetched fantasies she had never considered or predicted this.

As Arthur moved in for the kill, Merlin looked up at a gargoyle and, without even muttering an incantation, caused the head to fall off at Arthur's feet with a flash of golden eyes. The distraction was enough for the creature to escape and Merlin ran off after it.

Morgana sat down on the ground; her legs giving in underneath her. Merlin had magic. It was a fact her exhausted brain could barely even process. It kept repeating the same thought over again in the hope that at some point it would make some sense.

Merlin was a warlock. Merlin was a warlock. Merlin was a warlock.


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N You're officially spoilt. I cranked this out this evening just for you, my wonderful loyal reviewers. Hope it's everything you hoped it would be.**

**

* * *

**

There is no greater joy than love nor greater satisfaction than being in service to it.

He'd walked in and closed the door behind him softly.

"I understand," he began, tentatively, "I realise how frightening all this must be for you; especially for you."

"Why especially for me?" she'd asked him.

"You're the King's Ward. You know his hatred of magic better than anyone."

"That's what you think has been happening to me? The dreams, the fire, you think it _was_ magic."

"I really wouldn't know," he'd replied, "but there are people who do. What about the Druids? They help people like you."

"None of their kind would dare show their face in Camelot."

"No," he'd agreed, "but I know where you can find them."

And she'd been so grateful for his understanding and his support and it was all an illusion.

* * *

She'd stumbled and fallen, her leg giving way underneath her because of the raw wound caused by the scorpion's bite. Aglain tried to rally her but the pain was too much. She could barely walk at all; let alone run from Arthur's troops.

"I'll try to create a diversion," Merlin had yelled.

"No Merlin you can't."

You carry on," he'd said determinedly, "it's my fault they're here."

"I'll never forget this," she'd told him.

And she never had but it was all meaningless because he'd _lied_.

* * *

She'd run into Gaius' chambers, desperate to see him in her fear and confusion, but Merlin was the only one who'd been there and she'd tried to talk to him about her dreams, the fires, the magic.

"You can trust me, Morgana," he'd said and she had believed him.

"I'm scared, Merlin, I don't understand anything anymore. I need to know what's happening. Please."

He'd looked at her helplessly as she'd told him it was magic but he had refused to say the words that would have made her feel better.

"Please," she'd begged him, "I just need to hear someone say it so I don't have to keep feeling like I'm imagining it."

He'd paused and then, "I really wish there was something I could say.

And she'd stormed out lost and lonely and afraid and _he had let her feel that way; he knew the words that would make her feel better, make her feel that she was not alone, make her feel as though she was not one cursed benighted soul in a Kingdom of enemies and he had refused to give her that relief._

"It's magic," he now said, in her mind, "I know because I have magic too."

And she had loved him for his bravery and for his kindness and for the way he stood steadfast against the world despite his station but it was all so easy for him because he had _power_. Power that he hid from everyone, including her.

_It's truly unforgivable_, she thought, as she sat behind a barrel on a moonlit night in Camelot, _I will never forgive him_.

* * *

Morgana launched herself from the ground and ran quickly and silently through the night. Somewhere there was a girl just like her; cursed and damaged and alone and she couldn't trust Merlin to help her. Could not trust Merlin ever again. Despite his actions this evening. _Why did Merlin help her as he would not help me? Why did he love her as he never loved me?_

She shook her head to clear it of petty jealousy. She was past that now. She was almost positive she was past that now. She was determined to be past that now.

Merlin was a lying coward but the girl was a victim. Like Morgana, she had something within her that she could not control. In Freya's eyes, Morgana had seen her pain, her helplessness. If there was a way to stop the fate she'd seen, she'd had to try.

She made her way to the catacombs, taking a circuitous route to avoid the guards. She grabbed a torch from a nearby sconce and lit it with her magic as she stepped through the entrance and navigated the first passageway. Her anger made the torch flare up brightly and she struggled with herself quickly to bring it under control.

She made her way downwards, looking for the beast in every passageway until...

Merlin was sitting there, tears pouring down his face and onto an unconscious Freya wrapped in a blanket in his arms. He looked up at her in horror as she made her way down the stairs. She steeled her heart against his grief; determined to keep her anger.

"Morgana," he gasped, the tears clogging his throat so he could barely talk.

"I saw you," she said simply, furiously, "I saw _everything_."

He looked at her as though he couldn't quite comprehend what she was saying.

"What?" he managed finally through his distress. She realised his attention was so consumed by Freya's prone body that he hadn't even heard what she'd said.

"I need to get her out of here," he said, "I can carry her but..."

He looked up at her; the tears continuing to flow down his cheeks, "I need to get her out of here. She can't die here."

"Can't you do something for her?" asked Morgana, flatly. _You will stay angry at him_, she demanded of herself, _you will._

He shook his head. "The wound's too deep. I can't do anything. It's too deep. I can carry her but there are guards everywhere. I need to get her out of Camelot."

"Damn you, Merlin," she said. She spied the dress on the ground nearby. Freya must have left it there when she ran. _Why are so many of my dreams so persistently unavoidable? Why could Merlin not stop this one from coming true?_

She sighed, resigned.

"Give her to me. I'll put her in my gown and we'll ride out of Camelot together. I'll bribe the guards not to say anything."

He opened his mouth as though to argue or to thank her or something else entirely but had then simply nodded and handed Freya gently to her.

"You dress her," he said, softly, heartbreakingly, "she's naked under the blanket and it's not appropriate for me to do it."

And she smiled slightly at his strange modestly and then cursed herself for it immediately. But went about the task anyway.

* * *

Morgana walked to the edge of the lake; watching the last of the boat burn up along with a black-haired girl in one of her dresses.

Merlin had started back to Camelot; obviously unable to stay and watch the last plank burn. She'd stayed back in the trees while he had said goodbye to Freya. She had not wanted her anger at him to intrude. She had known he'd needed this moment.

She'd seen the girl wake up as he laid her beside the lake in the rain; had even imagined she'd smiled at seeing the water before she'd died. She'd seen Merlin pull her corpse into her arms and sit there for an age as the sun rose on a miserable autumn day.

She'd seen him lay her in the boat and light the fire with his magic as though it was the easiest thing in the world. He hadn't said a word to her the whole time.

Morgana sat down in the dirt; ignoring the unimportant damage to her riding habit. She'd been wearing it for nearly an entire day anyway. It was several hour's walk to Camelot and she didn't know if she had the energy to make the journey.

Another night without rest had passed and she did not know how she had not collapsed. All the revelations and emotions buoyed her, sustained her, enraged her, confused her.

She looked at Freya's body in the distance; burning with a magical flame Merlin had started without thought or effort.

How many different emotions was it possible for one person to feel? How could she be so angry and feel so betrayed and yet be so sad and sympathetic? How could she feel so much love for a man in pain, so proud that he had stood by Freya until the end despite what she was, have such aching sadness for his loss, and yet be so _enraged_.

All his lies and obfuscations; all the times he had told her the truth in a way that did not tell her anything.

"Yes, there are other sorcerers in Camelot," he had said, "and no, I won't tell you who they are. They do not want violence, they want just to live in peace and protect the people they care about."

All it would have taken was three simple words to make her life easier the past few months and he had not said them. _And yet_, said an unwelcome and rebellious part of her soul,_ wasn't that what he had been doing_? All those small wonderful things he had done for her suddenly made sense. He was supporting her while she found her own way, just as he did every day for Arthur.

_No! He lied. He betrayed. He left me alone._

_He was there for you everyday; an ear to listen, a hand to hold, your port in a storm._

_Stop it! You must not forgive him. It's unforgivable._

_It's punishable by death. He could have been executed if Uther ever found out._

_He should have trusted me not to tell like I trusted him_

_Maybe he was as scared as you are. Maybe he's thinking ahead like you always fail to do. Maybe he needs you right now._

She sighed, stood up and consigned the argument to a wastebin in her exhausted mind. Despite herself, and despite what she told herself, he needed her now as she had so often needed him. There was a time for anger and recrimination and that time would come. This was the time for her to serve him as he had served her. She dusted herself off and began the long journey back to Camelot.

* * *

She didn't knock when she got to Gaius'; just walked on in and through into Merlin's room. He was standing as she'd seen him before, by his window. This time the setting sun threw pinks and blues on his face, highlighting the sunken cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

"Merlin," she said softly. He looked at her as he had in the catacombs, as though he couldn't quite fathom she was there.

She tried to find the words but there were too many emotions, too many thoughts. Words were inadequate. She walked up to him, drew her arm back and slapped him hard across his face, leaving a red palm mark on his cheek. Then she moved forward and slid her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, finally. "I saw her. I saw you. I know. I know everything. And I'm so angry. And I'm so sorry."

He stood stiff in her arms for a moment as her words sunk in. Then he collapsed suddenly against her shoulder; the tears pouring down his face as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

She slid down the wall and leant against it; his head lowering to her lap. She sat there with him, his grief pouring out of him, and knew the joy that came from being in service to one you love.


	22. Chapter 21

**What is this rash brash urgency of youth to bash down the walls of our world? Do they not know what lies behind those protective barriers?**

She woke up, stiff and cold, the sun peeping softly through the window behind her. She had a brief moment of panicked confusion until she remembered where she was. _Merlin's quarters. I'm in Merlin's quarters. Freya, Merlin crying. I'm in Merlin's quarters._

She had been comforting Merlin and they must have fallen asleep. She felt a small movement and realised he slept still; his head on her lap.

Her lower spine protested at spending so many hours on a cold wooden floor. Trying not to disturb the sleeping man, she stretched slightly and took the time to look around his sparse quarters. She couldn't believe how bare they were; despite Merlin's mess. There wasn't even a fireplace and she wondered how on Earth he managed to survive each winter without freezing.

It was such an incongruous impossible image; the warlock living like an impoverished peasant. It was not what she'd been taught you did with power. It was almost as though Merlin was what he appeared to be.

She looked down at his still form and carefully pulled one black curl away from his face; running her fingers lightly through his hair. She caressed his face softly, amazed at how soft and unblemished it was. How did someone who grew up farming have such perfect skin?

Her stirred at her touch and she pulled back her hand; hoping he hadn't noticed. He rolled over and opened his eyes; looking at her in confusion, surprise and then shock. He sat up.

"Morgana," he said. He seemed to only ever forget her title when he was astonished or angry. She realised how happy it made her; this small familiar knowledge of his behaviour. The Gods help her; she found these small lapses of propriety on his part... adorable.

"I think we fell asleep," she said, redundantly.

"What time of day is it?" he whispered urgently, starting to panic, "we have to get you back to your Chambers."

"Merlin, it will be alright. Besides, it has to be already at least an hour past dawn."

"Milady, you're the King's Ward. You can't spend a night in a servant's quarters. Oh Gods, we were alone. Everyone will think that we... we have to find a way to smuggle you..."

"Merlin," she interrupted him with a small laugh, "it's fine. We'll tell everyone I felt ill and had to spend the night under Gaius' care. No one will question that."

"Oh Gods," he cried, "Gaius. What on Earth will we tell...?"

"There's no need to tell Gaius anything," said the calm voice of the Court Physician. He stood in the doorway, two mugs of steaming tea in his hand.

"I came in last night to find you both so fast asleep I could not wake you. Since you were fully clothed and nowhere near the bed I decided to leave you be. Still, you must be cold and stiff from the floor."

He handed them the mugs and Morgana wrapped her frozen fingers around hers; revelling in the warmth.

"Now, Merlin, I need you to go and talk to Gwen and ask her to smuggle down a nightgown and a change of clothes for the Lady Morgana. Tell her Morgana felt so ill she came to me directly and did not plan for today. Tell her you're trying to avoid gossip."

Merlin nodded and left directly; stopping to give her one brief enigmatic glance before he left. She wasn't sure if it was 'I'm sorry' or 'thank you' or 'I regret...' She nodded in response and he set off down the stairs.

"I'm afraid, Morgana," continued Gaius, "that you should stay here in bed today. It would look odd if you were so ill last night you had to be under my direct care but were completely recovered this morning."

She smiled at him warmly. "Thank you, Gaius. You're right, of course. What shall we say my ailment was?"

"Nervous exhaustion brought on by lack of sleep due to nightmares. It explains why you need bed rest but have no actual symptoms."

"You've thought of everything," she said as she crawled into Merlin's small pallet. It felt surprisingly comfortable after the floor but was only a quarter of the size of the bed she usually slept in. It smelt like him though, a fact she found comforting.

"I do try, my dear. And now I must see the King about the health of his poor Ward. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course, Gaius. Thank you."

"No, my dear, thank you. I know how upset Merlin was last night. I was unable to give him any comfort so I'm glad someone could. Now, you must be tired from your uncomfortable night's sleep. Take this opportunity to rest."

She curled up in a ball, convinced she could scarcely sleep when the sun was risen and she was still dressed in the habit she had been wearing for so long. She pounded the hard pillow, breathed in Merlin's scent, and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

"Morgana," she heard Gwen's voice say, "Morgana, wake up."

She stirred and, for the second time that day, looked around in bleary confusion wondering where she was.

"Gwen?" she said.

Her maid smiled. "You were so fast asleep I could barely wake you. I brought you a nightgown to sleep in and a change of clothes for when you are recovered."

"Of course," she said and she threw off the light covers and quickly changed with her maid's assistance.

"Why on Earth did you run to Gaius' last night without even a nightgown? If you felt that tired and ill...?"

"I'm sorry, Gwen, you must have been worried. I think I have had so little sleep these last few weeks that I wasn't thinking straight. Thank you for bringing me my nightgown."

"You're welcome, but please, Morgana, in the future confide in me."

"I will," she lied.

"Good. Now I have some chores to do. Will you be alright?"

"Yes, of course," Morgana replied, climbing back into the bed.

Gwen curtsied briefly and then left the room.

She'd not been gone a minute before there was a knock on the door and Gaius entered carrying a bowl of soup on a tray with some bread.

"From the royal kitchens; courtesy of the King. He is very worried about your health and wishes you to stay here resting as long as you need."

"Uther is always very considerate when consideration is easy."

"Morgana," Gaius chided her.

"Do you think I am wrong? Or too harsh, perhaps? After what he did to you? Really, Gaius. How can you stay in his service?"

"You act, my dear, as though service is a choice. We all have our masters and our tasks that must be done. Camelot is my home and Uther is my King. That is the way things are for me and for you as well. Just be glad you have his favour."

"And if he knew what really happened, Gaius? If he knew about...if he knew that Merlin... if he knew I spent the night here comforting an upset servant? Do you think he would send me courtesy and soup? Do you think that he would be glad that...?" she stopped, having nearly revealed herself and him and everything.

Gaius gave her a look she could not interpret and then sat down on the end of the bed as she ate.

"I know, Morgana," he said gently, "I know about Freya. I know about Merlin's magic. I know about your own. I'm sorry, my dear, but I know everything."

She simply nodded; no longer surprised about anything and finding herself once again unable to get angry at Gaius.

"It must have come as a shock," he said, "seeing Merlin's power."

She nodded again with a wry smile.

"You should know, and I hope you do not judge me too harshly for this, but you should know that Merlin wanted to tell you. I told him not to. I was worried it would endanger you."

"You? You told Merlin that..."

"Maybe I was wrong but I genuinely thought you were better off with the way things were.

"Have I ever told you about my sister?" he asked, suddenly.

Morgana started at the sudden change of topic. "Your sister? Do you mean... Merlin's grandmother?"

"My sister was a lot like you. Our family, as you know, are minor landowners. We are not nobility but are comparatively wealthy. We have been in Camelot since before Uther was even born; back when this was a fortified landholding in Mercia. Offa owned the land and people at that time. He staged a rebellion against Mercia and proclaimed himself King."

"Gaius, it's not that I mind the history lesson but I'm not entirely sure why you're telling me this."

"Well, the new Kingdom created by Offa went through several different leaders, all deposing the previous King and taking power in his place. Finally, the Lord who owned my family threw his support behind King Ethelbald and my grandfather fought in his army. He gave us a small amount of land in return and by the time my sister and I were born we were comparatively wealthy and surprisingly influential. My Grandfather was illiterate but he saw the value in an education.

"We may have been peasants but my sister and I grew up in an environment of comfort and learning," he looked at her and hesitated for a moment before continuing, "and magic."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"As you know, the practice of magic was widespread before the Purge and I dabbled as well. My past experience with magic was why Aeridian targeted me. Doubt was an easy thing for him to place in Uther's mind."

"I still don't know how you can say that so calmly. How you can work every day for that... monster... knowing what he tried to do to you?"

Gaius simply patted her foot under the blanket and continued his story.

"According to the Old Religion, magic is all around us. It is everywhere. As such, there are two types of magicians. There are those who practise and train and study hard and are able to channel some of the natural magic of our world. I was one of those people. I studied hard and practiced daily but my skill was never great.

"And then there are those who have a natural power within them; a great surge of magic to draw upon. They are the powerful ones. They are the ones born with magic; the ones who use it instinctively whether they choose or not. My sister was one of those people."

"Like me," noted Morgana, looking down as she said it, "she had natural magic like me."

"Like you _and_ Merlin," he said, "but she was like you in other ways too. She was incorrigible and slightly wild. Her magic gave her confidence. She was kind and believed very strongly in a better world and I think she was looking for any way to rebel against our parents."

"What happened to her?"

"She fell in love, or she at least believed herself to be in love, with a travelling magical performer. He was from a farming family in a small village called Ealdor. He travelled through the Kingdoms performing simple magic tricks for ignorant peasants. He had no great skill or redeeming attributes but, against our parent's wishes and the permission of her King, she handfasted to him."

"And moved to Ealdor and had Hunith," finished Morgana, "Merlin's mother."

"The King was dissuaded from pursuing her but she was banished. Neither she nor her husband or children were able to return to her home and her family as long as they lived.

"When Ethelbald died, my father and I supported Uther's succession and when he gained control I was rewarded with the role of Court Physician. It is, as you know, about as high as a man of my birth can climb. I asked then that my sister's family be once more welcome in Camelot. My sister was dead by then of course but it meant her daughter and I could at least correspond and she visited me, once, in her youth. Before her marriage, that is."

"So you have only seen your niece a few times? And Merlin?"

"I met Merlin when he arrived in Camelot to live with me."

"Incredible. Gaius, why are telling me this?"

"Because, while she would never admit it in her lifetime, my sister's marriage was a mistake."

"In what way?"

"She married a man who was an outsider; someone who didn't fit in. They had that in common and it's what drew them together. But they were also too different. His family were poor farmers; unrefined and uneducated. He himself could not read and he didn't see the value in an education either. He saw it as a waste of time that could be afforded only by the wealthy and idle.

"Not only that, but his magic could not compare to hers. She was his superior in all things and, while it was why he fell in love with her, it was also why he came to hate her.

"Once they were living the harsh life of a peasant in a poor farming village... she missed her family and her clothes and her books and resented him for her loss. And he resented her for being her. She tried to teach the local village children to read and he felt she was mocking him with her education.

"When she started to teach their own daughter her letters he became angry and violent. When talk began of a ban on magic, he encouraged it in their village and was the first to demand that people stop using it. It is why Hunith was never taught her mother's skills.

"He left her in the end with a child not five years old in her arms and she raised Hunith alone. She gave up her life of privilege for nothing."

"That is a tragic story, Gaius, but I'm not sure why you are telling it to me."

"I think I'm trying to explain why I made the decision I did, Morgana; what I was trying to protect you from. You have a good life here, although you may not feel that way about it at the moment. I would not have you throw away the things you have in an attempt to find something else... something else that may not exist anywhere."

"So, what are you saying, Gaius? That I shouldn't throw away my comfortable life in search of... what? Happiness, satisfaction, control... love? What if I'm not happy? What if I feel as though my great comfortable life is a prison? What if I had an opportunity to gain happiness?

"Are you saying that your sister would have been better off ignoring her feelings just because things did not turn out well for her? That it would have been better for to keep her life of privilege and not take a chance on happiness, a chance on love?"

"I'm saying, my dear, that sometimes the pursuit of happiness is not enough. Sometimes love is not enough. Sometimes people have to consider the _kind_ of life they want to live; the things they would have to give up and whether they would still be happy when the... tyranny of the mundane... takes over their life.

"I'm saying none of these decisions are as simple as they appear when we are young and I wanted to save you from having to make some of them. I still do.

"Now, I have talked your ear off. I will leave you with your soup... and your thoughts."


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N Totally forgot to include Kizzia and EllieBaby in my last reviewer shout out. Thanks guys!**

**

* * *

**

Some people are born above others no matter how they protest their lack of superiority. There is a time when they must learn that denying reality achieves little except evidence of their own credulity.

She slept again; amazed at how much she needed rest, at how the stress and pain and confusion and _exhilaration_ of the last few months had exhausted her.

She woke to a bright new morning; a new person. It was like her world, in such flux for so long, had settled and coalesced. For the first time in a long time she knew who she was, who her friends and allies were, who her enemies were.

She still did not understand how Merlin and Gaius bridged those two worlds; serving masters who did not deserve them. Uther, unworthy because of his banal cruelties and hypocrisies and Arthur, whose early promise seemed so corrupted by his insecurities and determination to walk so closely in his father's footsteps.

"You're awake," said a voice and Merlin stepped into the room, carrying a blanket. He folded it up and placed it on top of the wardrobe, then ambled over with his awkward gait and sat cross-legged on the end of the bed.

"I came to talk to you last night but you were still asleep. Milady, why did you let yourself get so exhausted?"

"I don't know." She shook her head, "It's been an... unusual couple of days."

He nodded and looked at her cautiously, "I came last night because I thought we needed to talk about... um..."

"Magic, Merlin? Dress-stealing? Druid-girl hiding? Magic, Merlin?"

"I'm sorry," his words came out in a rush, "Gaius told me not to tell you but I could see how scared and alone you felt and then the Druids got slaughtered because I sent you to them and..."

"Merlin!" she interrupted him, "I don't want to talk about that. I saw you and I was furious. But Gaius and I have talked about it and I do understand why you didn't tell me. No, if I'm still upset it's because of Freya."

"Freya?" Merlin asked, his face falling into sadness at her name, "I don't..."

"You were going to leave Camelot, Merlin, leave us all. Leave me and Gaius and Gwen and Arthur and everyone you profess to care about. I want to know why."

"I... I'm not sure I can explain it. I guess... it's so hard being the only one; not knowing anyone who can understand who you really are. To look at yourself and see a monster and want so badly to be normal. She made me feel like I could be myself. I wanted that and I guess for a moment I thought... I thought I could just take it."

"Well then, Merlin, I change my mind. I am angry about the magic because you and I could have had been that. If you had told me, you and I could have had each other to lean on."

"But you're the King's Ward," he argued, "and we're... different. You have wealth and privilege and so many things to lose... and..."

"...and nothing, Merlin. When it comes to this power, when it comes to magic, you and I are the same. We are equals. You should have told me."

He looked at her strangely and she felt he wanted to say something. A small dark cloud raced across his face, but then it was gone and he said nothing.

"Well, I should let you get dressed and head back to the Castle," he said instead. "Uther is expecting you today to help welcome those Kings for the peace summit."

Morgana felt a great suffocating blanket descend upon her at the thought of her normal duties... King's beautiful Ward. Dress immaculately. Wave and smile.

"I think the King's ward is still feeling poorly and will need to rest before tonight's festivities," she said with a shy smile.

He grinned back with something a little like his old joy. "As you wish, Milady."

"How are you, by the way?" she asked suddenly, cursing herself that it hadn't been her first question. She had to remember that his had been the greater loss.

"Better, Milady, thank you for asking. I've had a little time to come to terms with the... inevitability of it. Also, Arthur cheered me up by ramming his knuckles into my head while choking me."

She let out a great peal of laughter at that.

"Oh, Merlin," she said, shaking her head, "that's the problem with us nobles. We are supposed to control our emotions as we are taught to control everything. Only anger and hatred is allowed. All else, we are taught, weakens us."

"Maybe," he said, as he hopped off the bed. "Maybe Arthur is a better man than you give him credit for."

Her laughter stopped as she remembered exactly whose blow it was that had killed Freya. "Merlin, how... I mean... I don't understand how you can be so... when it was Arthur who..."

"He didn't know," he replied, "and even if he had... his response would have been the same. There was a threat to Camelot and it is responsibility to protect us. "

"You never considered telling him about Freya, getting his help?"

He shook his head, no. "After what happened with... well, he is more convinced than ever that all sorcerers are evil. He would have believed only that his idiot servant was being manipulated. It would not have been fair to put him in that position."

"You deserve better, Merlin. You are too loyal," she said, realising suddenly that it was true. She couldn't believe she had forgiven him so quickly and so completely. _God, you're a lovesick fool. Totally pathetic. Subscribe to your own advice, girl. Control your feelings._

"Of course, I can't complain about your loyalty when you have been so loyal to me too. I was upset, Merlin, I am still a little bit upset. But rest and perspective are wondrous things. And regardless of anything else, you're my friend and I'm grateful for that."

She paused momentarily, looking for the right words. "And you have the right to give your heart where you choose. I guess part of me is also jealous because I do not have that luxury."

He smiled at that, "I am your friend, Milady. As I am Arthur's. I'm sure that one day you will find a place to put your heart. And he will be a very lucky man."

He nodded in farewell and left the room. There was silence for a second and then she heard the clatter as he fell down the stairs. She smiled to herself at the sound then looked around and spied the blanket he had put on the top of the wardrobe.

With a sinking stomach, she realised that she had unthinkingly taken Merlin's bed for an entire day and forced him to sleep on the floor. And he had let her, uncomplainingly.

It was just what servants did.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N I know, ridiculous updating this weekend but I want to get as much of this story finished before the new week begins because it is once again going to be crazy at work. I would be incredibly grateful as always for reviews. This has now grown to around 30 chapters overall, although it was only 25 chapters just last Wednesday LOL so it may grow again.**

**

* * *

**

There is war and famine, pain and loss and all of it to come. But today we should eat, drink and be merry. For today is a good day.

Fire flared toward her and both she and the beautiful blonde woman beside her both pulled back with a shocked laugh.

Trickler, Alined's jester and servant and general dogsbody, was dancing between the tables toward where the Kings sat laughing and joking. The Lords and Ladies of the court were exuberant with their joy and even Merlin, so soon after tragedy had struck his life, was walking around the outside of the group with a jug in his hand and a carefree smile on his face.

Morgana didn't know when she had last had so much fun. Thank the Gods for friendship and an entire day's sleep. It had given her a great deal of perspective. After talking to both Gaius and Merlin, she'd decided that the nobility's determination to control their finer emotions was in the end good advice.

What was that old saying? Revenge was a dish best served cold. She would control her emotions as she should and when time presented an opportunity to rid Camelot of Uther she would be ready. She would not do something stupid and ruin the good things she had in this world for anger or for the love of a man who had so recently loved another.

She looked over to where Arthur was sitting dourly on the other table; showing little enjoyment in Trickler's performance. _Congratulations, Arthur, for once I will take my cue from you_.

"But it is not just enough to please the gentlemen of the Court," said Trickler smarmily, "now I have a spectacle for the ladies."

He turned to where Morgana was sitting, with the awful lady Vivian beside her and Gwen behind, and his hands flew through the air creating a wave of butterflies. The three women gasped and Morgana laughed in carefree enjoyment at the spectacle.

"But what is this?" exclaimed Trickler, his hands going to his mouth in mock surprise. "The Lady Vivian..." He walked up and put his hand to her ear; pulling out a butterfly seemingly from her hair. "It has mistaken you for a beautiful flower."

Vivian gasped in joyous disbelief and the Court began applauding again.

"Isn't this Trickler person fun?" exclaimed the Lady Vivian to Morgana.

"Oh yes," replied Morgana, whose attempts at conversation with the extraordinarily spoilt and self-absorbed woman beside her had so far petered out quickly, "so much fun." _And you have the intellect of a trout, my dear. A dead trout. A poached dead trout. Gods, when do we eat? I'm starving._

She looked at Merlin standing, suddenly subdued, beside Arthur. _Oh no, something must have reminded him of Freya._ She looked at the full carafe of wine in front of her and had a thought.

"Gwen," she whispered to her maidservant, "can you smuggle a carafe of wine to my chambers? Um, maybe two. No, three."

"Morgana!" said a shocked Gwen, "what on Earth...?"

"Please, Gwen. Just go to the kitchens and say they are for the table and then put them in my rooms."

"Yes My Lady, of course."

"Honestly," said Lady Vivian, "the way servants talk back here. I don't know how you deal with someone like her. Our servants would never be so disrespectful. To think Arthur told me she was 'Camelot's finest'."

"Hmm umm," replied Morgana, not really listening, "oh good, food! Look, Vivian, poached trout."

"It's fine, I guess," she said, "although nothing that can compare to the food at home."

"Of course not, Vivian. Still, it is preferable to starving."

"Perhaps. Sometimes I think starving for a few days is a good thing for a woman. It helps maintain her figure."

Morgana swallowed the retort and calmed her face from the appalled look it was forming.

"Of course," she said instead, "thousands of starving peasants can't be wrong, after all. I mean, why else would they skip meals?"

"That is so true," trilled Vivian, appreciatively, "we have some who survived a famine on our lands a few years ago. They are so wonderfully thin."

Morgana stabbed an extra-large portion of the fish and wondered if perhaps Vivian's bitchy vapidness was a front. _Surely the woman couldn't be that divorced from reality, _she thought, _maybe it's a clever front for a brilliant mind._

She looked at Vivian clapping to herself at the butterfly that had settled down on her plate and gave her a look of disbelief. _No, she's really that cosseted. Gods, Olaf, what are you thinking? She's going to be a Queen one day. How completely terrifying._

She looked at Merlin standing beside a still-dour Arthur with the concerned look on his face and dropped some fish in her lap.

"Oh dear," she said, "I seem to have spilt food on my gown and Gwen isn't here."

She gestured to Merlin who gave her a bemused look and came over.

"Merlin, I have to go to my chambers to change. Can you bring my plate, oh and some extra food as well, so I can eat there and it doesn't go cold while I'm gone?"

"Well, y_ou_ obviously don't worry about being thin," noted Vivian with a disapproving sniff.

Merlin gave her the disbelieving and appalled look that Morgana had managed to stifle a few minutes before and followed it up with an appraising one to the King's Ward.

"Of course, Milady," he said respectfully, although his eyes clearly wanted to know what she was up to.

He gathered up her meal and remaining wine and followed her out of the hall.

"Milady, what are you doing?" he asked as they walked up the corridor to her room.

"Merlin, I can't remember when I was last in such a good mood or having such a wonderful time. That is, until that woman opened her mouth."

She turned to him. "Besides, I thought you and I could have a celebration of our own."

She opened the door to her chambers and they walked inside.

"A celebration?" he asked, curiously. "In aid of?"

"Rest and perspective," she replied, walking to the table and picking up one of the three carafes Gwen had obediently left there.

"Wine and food and good company. What could be better?"

Merlin laughed at that; a lovely full laugh that she took such joy in hearing.

"How about my head? Does keeping that count as better?"

"Merlin, you act as though being caught having a party alone in a noblewoman's boudoir is a _bad thing_. Come on, I won't tell if you won't."

He nodded, still unable to quash his smile. "Alright. Although if I get executed you're going to feel really bad about it. Now, can I have some of that trout? They wouldn't let us eat at the feast and I am _starving_."

"Of course." She poured the wine into two goblets and handed him one. "Just be careful. According to Vivian, eating apparently makes you fat."

"I wish. If it did, people might stop mistaking me for a scarecrow. Or, on moonlit nights, a skeletal phantom back from the dead to plague them."

Morgana had to swallow her wine quickly to stop herself from spitting it out in laughter and end up coughing fitfully.

"Laugh if you want," Merlin continued, "but only two weeks ago a man thrust a Rowan branch in my face and yelled, 'get back, fiend from hell'."

"Oh Gods, Merlin, tell me you're joking."

"I am not. And then there was that incident at Midwinter... no, I can't talk about it. I still have a fear of candles; although the holes in my ears are quite handy."

She laughed for real then, holding onto the table for support so she didn't fall over.

"Oh dear," she finally managed, wiping the happy tears from her eyes, "I can so imagine you as a decorated fur tree. Now, I am definitely changing into something more comfortable. I promise I won't need any assistance."

He gave a very embarrassed smile at the statement. She walked over to her wardrobe and grabbed some clothes then slid behind her panels to change. A few minutes later, she walked out dressed in the men's clothes she used for travel sometimes.

"This is so much better," she said, as she sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. Merlin passed her food and wine to her and then joined her on the floor, topping up their glasses.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"Rest and perspective may be worth celebrating but you're obviously trying to cheer me up after... everything." He paused.

"I don't know, Morgana, there was just something about that Trickler that reminded me of.... he seemed.... oh, ignore me, I can't go around seeing magical threats everywhere. After all, what kind of fool would perform it in front of the King of Camelot?"

"It was a very impressive trick," she noted.

"Too impressive," he responded thoughtfully then shook his head and gave a determined smile. "What I'm actually trying to say is... that I'm grateful. To you. For this. And for not slapping me again."

She smiled at that. "I'm happy to be of service, Merlin," she said softly. And then she raised her goblet and they clinked their wine together in a toast.

"To rest and perspective."

He smiled at her in return.

"To rest and perspective."


	25. Chapter 24

**Your throat's on fire and your head is sore; ****You can blame who you want but the fault is yours. ****Wake up now and face what's in store; ****It's the morning after the night before.**

_Dawn_

Morgana groaned and buried her face in the pillow; the dull ache in her head becoming a sharp blinding pain at her movement.

"Gwen?" she whispered, coarsely, her throat dry from lack of water.

"Gwen!" she said more loudly.

There was no response and Morgana remembered that of course she would be tending on Lady Vivian this morning.

"Water!" she yelled, hopefully to her empty chambers.

She rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.

"That's just great," she muttered; wondering why she had gotten so carried away the night before.

_

* * *

_

The night before

"Merlin?" she asked, her hand taking his in a soft grip, "tell me about your magic?"

"My magic? What do you want to know?"

"Sophia. I want to know what happened with Sophia. That never made any sense to me. And the Questing Beast. And Gwen's father. In fact, I want to know everything."

He refilled their glasses from the second carafe and settled in against the wall.

"Alright," he said, "I'll do my best to tell you everything. Let's just hope we have enough wine."

_

* * *

_

One hour past dawn

"Morning!" yelled Merlin, as he bounded through her door.

"Oooh," he said, "you look even worse than I thought you would."

"Merlin, how is it you look so... so... Merlin, how are you not hungover? If this is magic, then I want some."

"Sorry," he said ruefully, "it's just how I am. Besides, I think you drank a _little_ more than me last night. Like a carafe more."

He set a tray down on her bed.

"Water, bread, sausage, more water and one of Gaius' awful potions. He swears it will help; just try not to gag on the taste. My advice, stay in bed. Vivian's been up riding since dawn. When I walked through the courtyard, she was busy berating a groom for not being groomy enough. And we don't want her murdered now, do we?

"Got to go. Got to tend to Arthur."

And he bounded out of the room, leaving her wondering if she had imagined him. The delightful smell of warm bread and sausages wafted to her nostrils and her stomach rolled over in anticipation.

She sat up and pulled the tray over, feeling a small warm glow from his care and his consideration. As she would from any friend's, of course. She had no inappropriate feelings for Arthur's manservant at all.

Not at all.

_Control, Morgana, control._

_

* * *

_

Two hours after dawn

"Lady Morgana, are you awake?"

"Yes, Merlin, I did get a little bit of sleep but not much it appears. What are you doing?"

"I just came to take away the tray and bring you some fresh flowers. What happened to your vase?"

"Oh," she sat up and faced him, "um, it broke. Accidentally broke. For no reason. It just broke."

"Oh well, I'll just leave the bunch here and send a chambermaid with a new one."

"Thank you, Merlin," she smiled. "They look like bought flowers."

"Oh yes, Arthur gave me some money for... um... nothing. Nothing at all. Get some sleep. I'll ask the chambermaid to bring you some more water as well. Oh, and I'll take away the _two _goblets. Don't want gossip."

She nodded to him as he left and then her gaze fell on the beautiful bunch of flowers. _Oh Merlin, you are not making this easy._

_

* * *

_

Midday

"Morgana," said a surprised and slightly shocked voice.

Morgana roused herself from her pillows and looked up blearily into the eyes of her maid.

"Gwen?"

"Are you alright? Why on Earth are you still abed? I thought you got enough rest at Gaius'. I thought you were no longer ill?"

"I was," she responded faintly. "Let's just say I was so happy about the fact that I... celebrated..."

"Don't tell me you drank all three goblets of wine I left in your chambers... by yourself."

"If I say yes, will you not look shocked and horrified at my wanton behaviour?"

"Oh Morgana," laughed Gwen, "usually, I would, but I'm in such a good mood that I can't bring myself to disapprove."

"Gwen? Why are you in such a good mood?"

"No particular reason," said her maid happily. I'm just... in a good mood. Now, do you need anything?"

"No, thank you Gwen. Merlin has been tending to me this morning."

"Has he? Must be between his search for giant rats underneath my kitchen table."

"What?"

"Oh yes," said Gwen, laughing as she did so often at Merlin's antics, "he burst into my home, flew under the table and said he was looking for big hairy rats with sharp teeth."

"Hahaha!" laughed Morgana, "oh dear, what do you think he was doing?"

"I have no idea," replied Gwen, "although..."

She paused and drew her lip in under her teeth.

"What, Gwen?"

"Well, it's just the moth thing. You don't think he was coming to... you don't think he was going to take one of my dresses, do you?"

_Oh damn the crossdressing rumour. Why did I encourage it?_

"No, Gwen, Merlin knows how few nice things you have. He would never steal from you."

She smiled, reassured. "You're right, of course, My Lady. Still, I wonder what he was up to." She shook her head. "Who knows when it comes to Merlin? It could be anything."

"Yes, you're right," said Morgana, thoughtfully. _And here I was thinking we had no secrets anymore. Well, apart from... but that's different, that's my secret. Merlin, what are you up to?_

_

* * *

_

The night before

"So you confessed to curing Gwen's father because you really did cure Gwen's father?"

"Yes," he admitted, unhappily, "Gaius was right, of course. I should have spent the time trying to find what was really causing the sickness but I just wanted everything... fixed... straight away."

"I never thought of you as being so rash."

"Well, it wasn't the first and only time. Forging Lancelot's papers of nobility was pretty stupid as well."

"I don't know," she said, "I kind of admire that. You want the people you care about to do well; to not be bound by stupid conventions. I can understand that. Of course, if you want to talk about rash, drinking the poison to save Arthur was pretty stupid. Couldn't you have... magiced... your way out of the situation?"

"Magic does not solve all our problems, Morgana," he said reprovingly. "Drinking the poison was the only way to save Arthur. Besides, it was Nimueh's plan for me to drink it as punishment for thwarting her attack on Camelot with the afanc.

"What? Merlin, who on Earth is Nimueh?"

"Oh, um, she's the sorcerer who summoned the afanc, who poisoned Arthur's goblet, the one who sent the wraith after Uther."

"One person has attacked so many times and I had no idea she even existed. What happened to her?"

Merlin looked at her hand still holding his and tightened his grip on it slightly.

"I killed her," he admitted, "to save Arthur's life when he was bitten by the Questing Beast. She controlled the power of life and death and I asked her to take my life in exchange for this. She double-crossed me and I killed her."

She put her head on his shoulder at that.

"I don't know how you do that," she sighed, using her spare hand to refill her goblet.

"Do what?"

"Make these sacrifices. Drink the poison. I don't think I could do that. Not for Camelot, not for anyone, even if I cared about them. I'm too much of a coward. I want too much to live."

"You stand up to Uther," he whispered, "that counts for something."

"I didn't stand up to him when Gaius was being dragged away by Aeridian. I didn't stand up to him then. You did. I thought it then."

"Thought what?"

"I want to be brave like you. I want to be brave enough to drink the poison."

"Come now, Milady," he said and he took her goblet from her hand. "Enough wine. You're getting maudlin and amort."

"No peasant should have your vocabulary," she mumbled into his shoulder, "there are nobles with only half your education."

"Well, for that you can thank the women in my family. They were rather... determined."

"I love your mother," she said, somewhat randomly.

"I love her too."

_

* * *

_

One hour after midday

Gods, she was _hungry_. Why did alcohol make you want to eat like this? It had been hours since Merlin had brought her breakfast. She was going to have to get up and ring for a chambermaid to...

"Lunch!" said a tripping female voice. It was the chambermaid who had brought her the water.

"Master Merlin asked me to bring you something to eat since you're feeling so poorly, My Lady. He seems to be very busy today."

She put the tray down and moved around opening the curtains and windows.

"Got to let in some light and air, My Lady, it's the best thing for a sore head. Can't have you wallowing in a dark room all day. Poor Master Merlin, that Arthur works his fingers to the bone. I swear, I don't know how he does it. But that's our Merlin, isn't it? Always doing something for somebody. Why, just the other day..."

Morgana sat up and starting eating her food, concentrating her attention on the prattling woman. She was young, about Merlin's age, with frizzy blonde hair, a good-natured smile, an atrocious upbeat mood and a certain attractive plumpness. And the way she had just talked about "our Merlin"...

"There we are," she said with a satisfied smile, having completely re-arranged Morgana's room, "I'll be back in a little while for the tray... and maybe I'll bring you some more water. My name is Muriel, by the way. If you need anything, just ask for Muriel. I'll come at once. Can't have Merlin disappointed with me."

She sighed, prettily. "Such a lovely boy. And that skin and hair!" She sighed again in a decidedly lovesick way.

Morgana wondered if Uther would _really_ call it murder given the provocation.

_

* * *

_

One hour after sundown

"So, I met _Muriel_," Morgana greeted Merlin as he came into her room with a tray of chicken and beans.

She was dressed and bathed by this time; sitting by her fireplace with a book. She had a sudden urge to be better-educated and slightly more erudite than a certain chambermaid.

He put the tray down on the table and gave her a confused look.

"Oh yes. She's nice, isn't she?"

"Definitely. Very nice. Very sweet girl. Completely brainless of course, but then she is just a chambermaid."

"Morgana," he said reprovingly, "she's very sweet. She's constantly doing little things for me."

"Oh, Merlin, that's because she likes you."

"Wait... you don't mean...?"

"Yes Merlin, _I mean_. I think she's hoping you'll court her."

She pulled the tray over and began to eat; trying not to think about the sheer volume of food she had consumed that day.

"Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Court her?" she asked, trying to sound casual and worried she was failing miserably.

"No, probably not," he said, "it's too soon after... um... and it's not as though she and I have anything in common and... besides, I doubt she thinks of me like that. She's just nice. I have to go."

"So soon? You just got here."

"I have to tend to Arthur. He's... well, that doesn't matter. Got to go. Enjoy your chicken."

"The meat is very nice," she noted, "but the beans are a little cold."

He left and she wondered if he had genuinely not noticed how this Muriel felt about him when it was so blatant to any observer. It seemed unlikely then that he had any idea about her feelings. Her decision to take control of her emotions seemed even wiser now. And she was even more glad about what she _didn't do_ the night before.

_

* * *

_

The night before

"I love her too," he said. "Come on, My Lady, you have had far too much to drink. Let's get you to bed."

He'd picked her up then, just as if she was a child, and she was truly astonished at how strong he was. Her head was still on his shoulder as he slipped his arms around her back and underneath her knees to lift her.

He stood up, her body comfortable in his arms, and she had a sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him.

But she didn't.

_

* * *

_

One hour after sundown

"Control, Morgana, control. Remember, it's just what us nobles do."

And she skewered her chicken violently.

"Take that, _Muriel_."


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N Ergh! Sometimes I think these things are easier to write when Morgana isn't in the episode. Then I don't have to deal with the BBC's crap Morgana dialogue or their tendency to just place her in random scenes as some kind of lawn ornament. Between this, Torchwood, and Doctor Who, I can safely say that the BBC **_**hate**_** strong female characters and does not know what to do with them.**

**BTW, did I say 30 chapters? Um... 32? 33 maybe? I have one more chapter that I wrote this weekend that I'll put out tonight and then that'll be all from me for a little while.**

**

* * *

**

The more tender emotions are for peasants and those whose lot in life means they have little to lose from love. A noble man or woman must think of greater things and allow themselves only greater emotions.

Morgana left the celebration of the new peace agreement and walked into the hallway after Merlin. He had left the banquet by the main doors instead of the servant's entrance as he should have. Sure enough, the corridor was empty except for his lanky form in front of her.

She took a deep breath and walked determinedly after him. After what had happened the day of the tourney, she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Morgana stood at one of her windows, as perfectly dressed as usual, a drink in her languid hand. It was a pose she had perfected; one of outward unconcern. Inside, her mind was reeling from the turn of events.

Outside on the street, the ordinary men and women of Camelot were bustling around; buzzing with the news. It had only been three days since the five Kings had arrived for the peace talks. What a storm to descend in such a short space of time.

Gwen walked in; a bright and cheerful look upon her face.

"Anything interesting?" she asked.

"Haven't you heard?" said Morgana, disbelievingly, "Arthur was discovered in Lady Vivian's chambers."

"What?"

"King Olaf has demanded recompense. They're to fight to the death. All for the love of a woman and _Lady Vivian_ at that."

Morgana looked around and saw the stunned expression on Gwen's face.

"You look more shocked than I did."

"It's just very surprising," said Gwen, turning away to do the laundry.

"I don't know why he couldn't control his feelings," said Morgana. _If I can, surely he can. He's the least emotional man I know, after all_.

"Indeed," agreed Gwen absently, "I will miss the tourney if you don't mind. There's so much to organise here."

"But of course," said Morgana, as Gwen grabbed the laundry and went to leave the room.

_What strange behaviour,_ she thought, _it's not as though she's spent the last several months fighting to control her feelings for the man she loves only to have Arthur do whatever the hell he wants... as usual. _

_Oh hang on._

"Oh damn you, Morgana," she said to herself, "how could you be so stupid and insensitive?" Gwen obviously hadn't gotten over her feelings for Arthur. In all the craziness of her life lately, she had completely forgotten. Poor woman.

As if his father's son would ever have feelings for a servant. He deserved the clueless Lady Vivian. She was just his type.

* * *

Morgana stormed into Arthur's chambers, hoping to find Merlin at his chores. She was not disappointed.

"I thought we were friends," she said, aggressively.

"Um, we are," he answered, confused.

"Then, as your friend, do you mind telling me what on Earth happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean, Merlin? I mean that Arthur fell in love with Vivian so madly and so suddenly that he snuck into her chambers last night and then wanted to fight Olaf to the death rather than renounce her.

"I mean that Gwen visited him during the tourney, while he was losing, and then he suddenly started acted like a sane person again and stopped the fight without causing a war.

"I mean, that suddenly he is no longer in love with Vivian and seems to have realised she is a vapid, snotty, bitch like the rest of us knew within five seconds of meeting her. I mean, Merlin, what happened today?"

"Oh, you mean what happened with Arthur today?"

"Yes Merlin, that's exactly what I mean."

"I can't tell you that, Morgana. On pain of death."

"Please, Merlin. For once, let me not be the only one in the whole Kingdom who doesn't know what's going on. Please."

"Morgana..."

"Fine, then tell me what happened in the Throne Room when Arthur returned from seeing Morgause."

He went white at that. "My Lady, I _really_ can't tell you that."

"It's that or today, Merlin, and I'm not leaving until I get the full story about one of them.

He gave her a conflicted look and then nodded.

"Ok," he started, "today..."

* * *

She sat in the tournament stands with a strange feeling of deja vu. It felt like only a few weeks ago that she had sat here in confused ambivalence while Arthur fought Morgause. Now she was back again and this time there was no ambivalence. Arthur would win of course. He was younger and more skilled, so there was no fear of that. She gave brief glances to a clearly-upset Uther on one side and an insanely chipper Vivian on the other. She looked at the other woman in scorn. Her father was about to fight to the death with a man she apparently loved. She seemed to think it was some sort of glorious game with maces and broadswords instead of wooden pieces.

When Arthur won and killed Olaf, there would be war. Olaf's men would march on Camelot and Uther's great plans for peace would collapse. She'd thought the scenario through this morning and war would undermine Uther's reputation as the King of peace and prosperity. War could achieve much.

* * *

"Merlin," she called out down the hallway and he turned around and stopped when he saw.

"Milady," he said and gave her a short formal bow.

"There's no one around, Merlin, they're all still feasting. We're alone. And there is something I've decided I have to tell you."

* * *

What was Arthur doing? He was fighting like a green Squire with no training. Not only that, but he kept stopping the battle at regular intervals to blow kisses at Vivian or give her silly lovesick looks.

Something was very wrong. She looked at Merlin, standing to the side with the other servants and noticed for the first time the expression on his face.

Something was very wrong.

* * *

"If I tell you what happened today, you have to promise me that you won't tell anybody; particularly Uther," said Merlin, urgently.

"Merlin, you could tell me that Arthur has been replaced by a changeling sent by the faeries to claim the throne of Camelot in their name and I still wouldn't tell Uther."

"Right. So, Trickler, Alined's jester, put Arthur and Vivian under a love spell."

"Why on Earth would he do that?"

"So Alined could start a war while making it look as though he's pursuing peace."

"Arthur would pursue Vivian, Olaf would challenge him... that's actually kind of brilliant."

"A kind of cowardly brilliance, but yes. And it nearly worked."

"I hate to say it, Merlin, but maybe you should have told Uther."

"I considered that but Gaius is right. If I'd told Uther, there would have been war anyway because of Alined's use of magic. So I had to find a way to break the spell."

"Which you did."

"Which I did."

"I have another question for you, Merlin."

"Yes, Milady."

"Why didn't you ask me for help?"

* * *

Merlin had disappeared and the fight between Olaf and Arthur was officially no longer funny. Olaf was belting Arthur with the mace; the Crown Prince losing frightfully to every vicious blow. Whatever was going on with Arthur, it now seemed clear that he was going to lose.

She wanted Uther gone, but did she really want Arthur dead too? Her brother might drive her crazy but she did still love him. She couldn't stand to see him humiliated like this – again.

Olaf swung his mace into Arthur's back and the Prince fell onto the ground with a crunching thud. Morgana yelled out in shock at the blow. The time was almost up but Olaf could do it. He could actually kill him. And where was Merlin to stop this bludgeoning assault? Where had her hero gone?

* * *

"I'm sorry," he said, "I guess I'm used to keeping these things quiet, keeping them to myself."

"Well, from now on, you come to me, alright? We do these things together."

He nodded; though his expression was inscrutable. Why was the man she loved such a mystery?

"So, what did Gwen have to do with breaking the spell? I'm assuming that's why you went and got her."

* * *

Arthur was lying prone on the ground; unable to stand, unable to fight back, unable to do anything but watch Olaf wind up his mace for the death blow. He brought it up above his head in full swing and the 'ding' of the timer signalled the end of the bout.

"Aaarrgh!" screamed Olaf in frustration; his prey taken from him.

Merlin, back again, helped Gaius pick up Arthur and take him into the tent. Unless there was a miracle, this would be his last bout. Olaf would win and Camelot would be at war. And she was less happy about it than she thought she would be.

* * *

"Ok, Arthur told me not to mention this ever again under pain of death but... Arthur was under a love spell. I... did some research... and discovered that the only way to break the spell was to have Arthur be kissed by his true love."

"His true love? Merlin, are you actually saying...?"

"Now you know why I wasn't going to tell you."

"Are you telling me that _Arthur_ is in love with Gwen?"

He gave a restrained nod. "For nearly a year now."

"And you've known all this time."

"You weren't with him when he went to rescue her from Hengist. It was very obvious, though it took me forever to get him to admit it. They both know it's impossible but she was nonetheless very upset about Vivian. It took me quite a while to talk her into going and kissing him."

"I can't believe I've been so blind," she said, turning away toward the window. "All this time. I mean, I knew that she had feelings for him but that they were in love... real mutual love... this changes everything."

* * *

Something was different. She knew it immediately. As soon as Arthur returned from the tent after Gwen's visit, he was a different man. Suddenly, he was Prince Arthur, Knight of Camelot again. He was injured and quite badly but Olaf could not get any purchase on him.

Within a mere 30 seconds, the battle was over. Olaf was on the ground with Arthur's sword at his throat. Morgana couldn't believe the wave of relief that threatened to swamp her; even as she felt disappointment at the diminishing prospect of war. Still, if Arthur were to kill him...

Arthur's sword dropped by his side and he raised his voice to the crowd and yelled, "this is no way to achieve peace." He drew Olaf up and the two stood before the cheering crowd. Their Prince had done them honour again. And there would be no war.

* * *

"All this time," she said thoughtfully, "all this time... what do you mean it's impossible for them to be together? Gwen would be _perfect_ for Arthur. She balances him, she gives him courage. If it wasn't for Gwen, Gaius would have been burned at a stake and I would have probably followed him."

"She's a servant, Morgana, and he's a member of the royal family. There's no way that..."

"So what if she's a servant; so what if he's a nobleman. If they truly love each other then..."

"Then nothing. Uther didn't think either her or my life were worth saving because we're servants. He's hardly going to countenance a peasant being the future Queen of the Kingdom he's built up over the last twenty years."

"And what about them? What about their feelings? Why can't one couple in this Kingdom be happy at least? Why should Uther's mindless prejudices stand in the way?"

"Why are you getting so upset?" Merlin asked, slightly confused, "it's not as if it is you in this position. Arthur and Gwen are both well aware that their relationship is impossible. They're upset but resigned."

"I'm just... thinking of Camelot," she managed, wondering if that was as ridiculous a statement as it sounded. "Between Gwen and some clueless cow like Vivian, who do you think would be a better Queen?"

"Gwen, of course, but..."

"Well then, why is Gwen giving up? Would you, Merlin?"

"Would I give up on Arthur if I was in love with him?" asked Merlin, now obviously hopelessly confused at the turn of the conversation.

"No. If you were, hypothetically, in love with a hypothetical noblewoman... hypothetically of course... would you just give up or would you fight to be together."

"I really don't know," said Merlin, helplessly, "I've never been in love with a noblewoman."

Morgana didn't pause; if she had, it would have been obvious just how much that hurt.

"Well, just say you were, hypothetically in love with, say, hypothetically... me."

"Okay," agreed Merlin.

"And I was in love with you...."

"...hypothetically... I know," finished Merlin.

"Would you just give up on love or would you fight?"

"I don't know, Morgana, but you were right when you talked about the nobility having to hide their feelings. What impact do you think Arthur's love for Gwen would have upon his relationship with his subjects, with Camelot's allies, with Camelot's enemies? A noblewoman has powerful family and friends to protect her. Gwen has none. He is thinking as much of her as he is of himself."

"I don't care, Merlin."

"And what about her honour? If Uther won't let them marry, then all that is left for them is a less...formal... relationship. Even royal mistresses are supposed to be of noble birth. If Arthur offers her anything less than that, he's saying she's like every other peasant in this Kingdom... a disposable _thing _for the nobility to use as they see fit."

"No," Morgana shook her head violently at that, "if he loves her, he should have the courage to say something... no... the courage to _do_ something about it, regardless of what the rest of the world thinks."

And she turned on her heel and stormed off out of Arthur's quarters, wondering if she could find the courage to uphold her own convictions. She was sick and tired of being a coward. She would act.

* * *

"Merlin," she called out down the hallway and he turned around and stopped when he saw.

"Milady," he said and gave her a short formal bow.

"There's no one around, Merlin, they're all still feasting. We're alone. And there is something I've decided I have to tell you."

He gave her a bemused look and nodded toward an alcove.

"Did you want some privacy?"

"Oh yes, that's probably best."

They stepped into the comparative seclusion of the niche in the wall.

"It's about the argument we had the other day... about Arthur and Gwen."

"I remember. You felt they were giving up too easily on a relationship."

"I felt that Arthur should be honest about his feelings; that he should do something about them."

"Morgana," he said, trying to make his voice sound even, "you weren't listening to me. There's no way that a member of the nobility could offer what he could only offer her without..."

"Please, Merlin, you're not listening to _me_. I... I wanted... oh, Gods, what the hell."

And she leaned forward, as she had often dreamed, and pushed him back against the wall, holding him there with her weight. She looked at him for one moment and then angled her face toward him and kissed him on the lips.

She pulled back and looked up, feeling suddenly shy, and was bewildered to find a look of disappointment and even... anger... on his face.

She stepped back.

"I'm sorry, I thought..."

"May I go, Milady?" he asked, suddenly formal.

"Of... of course," she said, confused at his reaction.

And without meeting her eyes, he walked down the hallway at some speed... away from her.


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N So very tempted to finesse the last cliffhanger for more reviews. But I did promise you this chapter so here it is. Probably won't be another update until next weekend at the earliest now.**

**

* * *

**

**There is no point in cursing thoughtless ignorance when you were told a thousand times but were never listening.**

There had been whispers. They had started when she became, suddenly and frighteningly-quickly a precocious fourteen-year-old instead of the gangly ten-year-old she had been. She had noticed them but had barely understood them.

Then she had turned a breathtaking sixteen and the whispers began to get louder. That was when she had truly noticed them and had been horrified by them. She had pounded a few arrogant skulls before Uther had pulled her up and counselled her against anger.

"As a member of the Royal family, we have power that they do not," he had said to her then, "and because of that they assume that we must use and abuse it."

"So just because I live here and you are the King and we are unrelated...?"

"Yes, Morgana. That is all it takes."

"But you would never do that." It hadn't been a question; it hadn't needed to be. She knew that, in this at least, he was a truly honourable man.

"No, my dear, but I could. And that's all it takes, Morgana. I could."

* * *

She'd tried to find him. Once she'd recovered from her embarrassment and shock, she'd tried to find him but he was nowhere to be found. She finally went to bed, confused and upset at his rejection.

Her proposition had maybe come too soon after Freya's death but that was not what she'd seen in his eyes. What she'd seen had been... inexplicable, unexpected. It had been true, genuine anger and she needed to know why.

Tomorrow. He would have to go about his chores tomorrow. She would find him then and he would tell her what was wrong.

* * *

She walked tentatively into Arthur's rooms. He saw her almost immediately but turned back to his chores as though resolved to ignore her presence, or at least to hide his anger. But it was there, whether he said anything or not. In his shoulders, which were a little too rigid. In his hands, which went about their tasks a little too determinedly.

"Merlin," she began softly and moved toward him.

He stiffened, paused and then turned around to face her.

"Yes, Milady, what can I do for you?"

She stopped at his formal tone and then rallied.

"I... I wanted to see if you were ok. Yesterday," she stopped, not certain how to bring up what had happened between them the day before, "I just wanted to see how you were after yesterday."

"That's a strange question to ask a servant, Milady."

And before she could respond, he turned back to stripping down Arthur's bed and placing the sheets in the laundry basket.

"For heaven's sake, Merlin, will you look at me?" she ordered him, in a sharper tone than she'd intended.

He turned back again and this time his anger and, dare she say it, disappointment reached his face.

"As you command, Milady."

"Merlin, why are you acting like this?"

"It's very simple, My Lady. I am a servant. You are a member of the Royal Household. I am at your command. You can order me as you wish and I can't do anything about it."

She stopped still for a moment in shock at the thought that he...

"Merlin, I... I wouldn't want you to do anything you didn't want to do."

He grabbed the pillows from the bed and then angrily threw them back again and swung around.

"What, do you think it doesn't happen? Morgana, it happens all the time. We're just servants and we have to obey. It's the way it is. Do you really think Ruby the chambermaid was stealing and that's why she was dismissed? She was dismissed because Lord Elgin ordered her to his bed and she refused.

"What do you think I was trying to tell you about Gwen and Arthur? We are _peasants_. You _own us_. You can control where we go, who we talk to, what we do for a living, whether we can see our families. My Grandmother was banished from Camelot because she married without the King's permission.

"It is still law that the King can lie with any woman in the Kingdom at his whim, regardless of her age or whether she is married. The punishment for trying to disobey is execution – for her and anyone who tries to help her. I just thought that you... well, I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

"I... I'm sorry," she said, slightly stunned at his outburst, "I just don't think of you like that. As a... peasant. You're powerful and passionate and strong and... you have magic, strong magic. I think of us as equals."

"You've tried to tell me this before, Morgana, but it is blatantly not true. If magic were valued as a rank then yes, things would be different. But magic is banned. I cannot use it without death or banishment and neither are what I want."

"You use it all the time without consequence," she countered.

"Secretly. What would happen if you force me into this relationship and Uther discovers us? Arthur needs me. It is my job to protect him and I can't do that from somewhere else. Gods, do you _ever_ think about the consequences of _anything_ you do?"

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" she snapped back. "It's about Arthur. Why Arthur of all people? He doesn't even know you. He doesn't respect you. The way he _treats _you. Merlin, I..."

She stopped and turned around and took a breath to calm herself. Then she turned back to him and swallowed before speaking.

"I love you. I genuinely love you."

He opened his mouth to speak and she gestured for him to let her finish.

"I don't love your magic or your power. I loved you before I knew you were a warlock. I loved you from the minute you came to me after the Druids to see if I was alright. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for me; you're always willing to endanger yourself for the people you love. I don't know anyone as brave or as caring or as wonderful as you."

She gave a hopeless gesture and continued.

"And you're right, we're not equals. We can't be. But not because I'm a noblewoman and you're a peasant. We're not equals because I love you, Merlin. I love you, so I am the one in servitude to you. I am the servant here and it is you who have all the power. How will you wield it?"

Merlin looked down; tears starting to form in his eyes. He looked up, meeting her gaze for the first time and nodded at what she had just said.

"I'm sorry, Lady Morgana. If I truly have a choice then I just... I just don't feel the same way. You're my friend and, I can't deny that there's a... connection, an attraction... between us, but that's all."

* * *

There is a dream she has. It is not one of those nightmares that stalk her sleep; the dreams that leave her cold and alone, shivering and terrified in the pre-dawn darkness.

This is one that comes into her mind unbidden when she is awake; or that bubbles into her consciousness on a restless night when too much wine leaves her in that strange world that exists between sleeping and waking.

When she was younger, she dreamed that her father was still alive. She dreamed that they still lived as a happy family on their estates and everything she disliked about Uther became countered by that too-perfect memory of her father; present unhappiness distorting the past with a perfect golden glow.

As she got older, she let her mind wander to the idea of being Queen of Camelot, how that would feel, what it would involve, what it would mean for her relationship with Arthur.

But now, suddenly, unexpectedly, and unsought, comes a new dream. In the night or late afternoon, or any time she finds her mind wandering, she finds fresh images tapping gently at her brain and demanding entrance.

She doesn't entirely know where they came from or when they truly started. But now her mind takes her where it wills with little regard for her; it is her master and she can do nought but follow its commands. In the depths of her imagination, in the deepest secret nooks and crannies of her heart, there is a truth that she knows can never be spoken.

Except that one day, she did.

And she wondered if the rejection was something from which she would ever recover.


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N My apologies for the large transcript portion of this chapter. It was kind of necessary. It makes the chapter long but I wanted to get it out of the way.**

**

* * *

**

One day temptation will knock upon your door with sweet words and flattery. Will you open the door?

"Morgana," said a small whispery voice in her head.

"Morgana!"

She opened her eyes and saw the boy standing by her bed looking down at her.

"Mordred," she gasped, never happier to see a friend than at any time in her life. He must have known that she was thinking of him.

* * *

"Morgana," a pleased Uther greeted her as she entered the Solar for breakfast. Both he and Arthur were already well-advanced in breaking their fast and, for some reason, Merlin was attending upon them. She sat down and looked at the King as Merlin topped up his goblet with ale.

"Arthur, Morgana," said Uther as he popped a square of hot buttered toast in his mouth and followed it with a piece of ham, "I have good news."

"Then I will be glad to hear it, My Lord," replied Morgana, graciously. She may have let control of her emotions slip recently but she would not make that mistake again. _I bide my time, Uther, I bide my time._

"My Knights on patrol have found an encampment of Druids in the Forest of Brachvar," he said, as he took a swig of ale.

"They put up a fight but none of them seemed to have strong magic and they are now in our cells ready for execution."

Morgana tensed at the word 'Druid'; wondering if anyone she knew had been captured.

"I'm not sure how I feel about there being children in our cells, father," said Arthur unexpectedly.

"Children?" said Morgana, appalled despite her best efforts, "we have _children_ in the cells?"

"Not children, Druids," corrected the King, "They escaped the raid we undertook several months ago and had gathered together with the few remaining adults in a new camp. There is news of a band of rebels operating some sort of... magical resistance... in the forest. No doubt these children would have been recruited for their treason."

"But Father," argued Arthur, "they haven't been recruited yet. They're only children. Surely it would be better if we found families within Camelot to raise them in our ways instead of executing them."

"They are sorcerers, Arthur, or have you forgotten?"

"No, father," said Arthur, the 's' word pulling him into line as it so often did these days.

_A sorcerer is refilling your glass, you stupid man, _thought Morgana, _and another sits across from you at the table. How truly stupid are you? And you call yourself a man worthy of being King._ She gloried in the fact until she glanced at Merlin and saw him studiously avoiding her gaze.

He would not look at her. Since he had rejected her, he went to great lengths to avoid her. And yet he still left things for her in her rooms as he always had. She would return at the end of the day to find a vase of fresh-picked wildflowers or a plate of fresh honeycomb in her room. These small tokens of consideration made her heart leap and the rest of her roaringly angry.

_There were children, little children, in Camelot's cells_, her mind interceded with more important thoughts.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she found herself saying, "I find I no longer have any appetite."

"Morgana," said Uther, obviously trying to be reasonable, "do you forget that these people kidnapped you?"

"A small number of adults kidnapped me," she said back, remaining desperately calm, "not children and not these children. Is it really necessary that all Druids everywhere should die because of..." _my mistake_, she nearly said but didn't, "just because they were born Druids."

"Today's Druid child is tomorrow's traitorous rebel, Morgana, so yes. Camelot will not be safe until all are dead. Now, I have finished my breakfast so you may eat or not as you see fit."

And he stood up and left.

"You shouldn't challenge him like that," said Arthur, as Merlin poured him another serve of ale. He gulped it down, stood up and belted on his sword to prepare for the day. "One day he will lose patience with you. You don't want to end up in the cells like you did last year."

"I thank you for your advice, Arthur, but I do not think it wrong to challenge a King over the imprisonment of children."

"No, I don't like it either. But he's right. No sorcerer can be trusted and we're better off if they're gone."

Merlin wrapped his cloak around him and tied it at the front.

"Thank you, Merlin," he said routinely, "now go and clean my room."

"Yes Sire," replied Merlin, "as soon as I have cleared away your breakfast."

"Very well."

He also left, leaving Morgana and Merlin in the room together.

"He's not there," said Merlin, softly, as soon as Arthur was gone.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Mordred," replied Merlin, "he's not in the cells. I checked straight away but he was not captured with the others. I knew you would be worried about him so...."

"How can you let this happen?" she asked him, quietly, angrily. "You are a powerful warlock. More powerful than I. Yet you let Arthur treat you like a serf and stand in silence while Uther loudly condemns your kind as untrustworthy traitors."

"The rebels are not my kind, Milady. I learnt a long time ago that just because someone else has magic it does not make them an automatic ally."

"And why not if you are all working for the same goal?"

"Methods matter as well as outcomes, Milady. Nimueh tried to bring down Uther by poisoning the water supply and killing hundreds of innocents. Should she have been my ally?"

"And what about children?" Morgana countered. "Should children die for the crime of being born? Will you let these children be executed or will you help me free them?"

He stopped at it, nibbling at his lower lip.

"I... I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do about that yet."

"Well, I suggest you work it out soon or I will act myself."

She stood up to leave; her bread, meat and fish untouched.

"Please, Morgana, don't do anything foolish," he begged her. He gave her a look of genuine concern and it only made her angry.

"I can take care of myself, Merlin. I am not one of your... damsels in distress... who needs you to protect them. And I would appreciate it a great deal if you would stop leaving gifts in my room. Such objects of affection are hardly appropriate under the circumstances."

"I'm sorry, Milady, I wanted only to be of service."

"Well then, serve the inadequate masters you have chosen over the lives of innocents," she seethed. "Leave me out of it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a sudden desire to spend my day giving alms to orphans. It seems somehow appropriate."

* * *

"Morgana," said a small whispery voice in her head.

"Morgana!"

She opened her eyes and saw the boy standing by her bed looking down at her.

"Mordred," she gasped, never happier to see a friend than at any time in her life. He must have known that she was thinking of him.

The warning bell sang out and Mordred looked concerned for a moment then he sat down on the bed so she could embrace him.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she said, her hands cupping his face. He had grown a few centimetres since she had last seen him but was otherwise unchanged. He had her same black hair, pale-white skin and grey-green eyes. She could almost think that he was related to her.

"I found the boy wandering in the woods," said a voice and Morgana looked up at the man that had come into her chambers with the Druid boy. She'd been so wrapped up in seeing Mordred again, feeling that same strange frisson of recognition, that she had barely noticed until then that he was there. He was tall and roughly dressed with dirty-blonde hair and a beard.

"He was lost and alone hunted by _Uther's_ men," he continued, spitting out the word of the King with venom.

"Who are you?" she asked him cautiously.

"My name is Alvarr. I too have been hunted by Uther since I was a child."

"You have magic?" she inquired, already knowing the answer. This must be one of the rebels Uther was speaking about.

"Yes, My Lady," he said gravely, "as did my parents and their parents before them. They were fortunate to live in a time of peace before your King declared war on sorcery."

Morgana looked at Mordred; affected by the familiar story.

"I too have known Uther's cruelty," she said softly, still stroking Mordred's hair back from his forehead.

"Magic," Alvarr passionately interposed, "is not a crime. It is a gift."

She nodded; those words hitting her life like a ray of sunlight, even after all this time. She remembered when Aglain had first said something similar to her in the Druid encampment. It was as though her feet, so unsteady in her world, had found a stable home.

Merlin had never said them; preferring to pretend that their magic did not exist. Playing the perfect bumbling servant everyday, while men like Alvarr took action against Uther.

"I wish to walk free and without fear," declared Alvarr. "The boy said you would understand."

"But what are you doing in Camelot?" she asked, concerned, as the warning bells kept ringins. "You take a great risk in coming here."

"We came to see you," said Alvarr. "I will not stand by and let innocent people destroyed just because they are born with magic. And I am not alone. Many have already joined. Many more join every day."

"Alvarr," she interjected, "this is a war you cannot win. Uther has an army at his disposal."

"It does not matter how many you are if you wield a weapon powerful enough."

He looked at Mordred with those words and Morgana suddenly wondered just how powerful the boy was. She had never seen any particular magic from him, other than his telepathy, but then, she had not seen much from Merlin either.

"When I was a child, my parents told me of a crystal. It was taken from the sorcerers in the last days of the Great Purge."

"Taken? By Uther?"

"It is here," said Alvarr, "in Camelot, locked within the vaults beneath us."

"The vaults are impregnable. You could never get it out."

"No," agreed Alvarr with a small ironic twitching of his lips, "_I_ could not. But you could."

"Me?"

"You are the King's Ward. No one would suspect you."

Morgana floundered as she considered her options. In some ways, this was perfect. The rebels had sought her out and this was her opportunity to help Uther's enemies. But to endanger herself like this was not part of her plan.

Mordred left her side and went to the door; leaving her and Alvarr alone. He came up to her; looking steadfastly into her eyes and making her suddenly aware that she was clad only in her nightgown.

She looked down, slightly flustered by the spark in his eyes; not sure how to respond to his intense interest. Before she could accede to his request, her eyes roamed to where Mordred was standing. He was staring intensely at the door.

"He's here," he said.

"Who's here?" she asked.

"Emrys senses me as I sense him."

"Who is Emrys?" she and Alvarr asked together.

"An enemy. A friend. He heard my voice. He brings the guards. We must hide."

Alvarr and Mordred quickly ducked behind the bed, while Morgana climbed between the sheets and tried to compose herself as though sleeping.

There was a crash as Arthur kicked in her door and she sat bolt upright as though woken roughly from sleep.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" she asked angrily.

Arthur stood there, sword in hand, looking confusedly around her chambers while Merlin and the guards stood behind him. Merlin walked further into the room and looked around warily.

"I had reason to believe there was an intruder in here," began Arthur, uncertainly.

"Right now, Arthur, the only intruder is you," she snapped back.

"Camelot has been infiltrated. Did you not hear the warning bells?"

"Of course I did. I was hoping I'd be safe in my chambers."

"Well," he said, casting an annoyed look at Merlin, whose expression of weariness had grown, "if you'll just permit me to search your room..."

"You will do no such thing. Arthur, do you really think that if there was someone in my room I wouldn't know about it?"

He looked helpless at that, knowing he had no choice but to retreat.

"Please accept my apologies," he said awkwardly as he spun on his heel; brandishing his weapon at Merlin as he pushed him out of the room.

The door closed with a thud and she sighed in relief.

Mordred crept out and placed his ear against the door, as though listening for this mysterious Emrys. _Could it be Merlin? _She shook her head. Of course not. He may be a warlock but he was still just Merlin.

"We owe you our lives, My Lady," said Alvarr as he moved out of his hiding place.

"You're safe for now but Uther will not rest until he's found and killed you both."

"You will help us then?" asked Alvarr.

"Please Morgana, we need you," begged Mordred.

She turned to the boy, unable to resist him.

"Yes, I will. Of course I will."

He smiled and she turned to look at Alvarr who gave her the same wolfish glance he had cast her way earlier. She found it slightly disconcerting so turned back to Mordred and returned his smile.

"I will find a way to steal this crystal and I will bring it to you. Where is your camp?"

"Through the Forest of Brachvar in the Valley of Chambray."

"I will bring it to you then as soon as I have stolen it."

"Very well, My Lady. Mordred and I are grateful for your help. And now we will leave you to your beauty sleep." He looked at her deeply as he raised her hand to his lips. "Not that you need it, of course."

He and Mordred made their way from her chambers; leaving her with her chaotic thoughts.


	29. Chapter 28

**What did you think? That the world was simple and you knew your place in it?**

It was a completely normal morning. She bathed, she dressed, she did her hair. She slipped on rings and necklaces to match her green dress with the yellow sash. She dismissed Gwen and gave her time to do her sewing; a job she needed to supplement her income now she was alone. She did all the little things she needed to do to start her day as the King's Ward.

Then she walked determinedly toward Arthur's chambers to steal the keys she needed for the vault. This was not the time for doubt or delays. This was finally the time for action. She did not know what this crystal was for but if it could lead to Uther's downfall then she needed to help.

Arthur was training, as he did every morning, and Merlin should have finished his chores in his master's chambers and gone to attend to other duties. She slid the door open softly and, seeing the room was empty, walked in and over to the dresser where the keys were kept. She picked them up and turned around to find...

...Merlin standing there looking at her with an inquiring look upon his face.

"Merlin," she said in surprise, "I was looking for Arthur."

"He's at training," replied Merlin, with a bemused look.

"Of course," she said, and gave him a smile as though laughing at her own stupidity.

"He trains every day. Same time, same place." He gave her a brief smile; maybe wondering if she had sought him out instead of Arthur.

"I just wanted to apologise for last night. Another time perhaps."

She made to walk by him and leave the room.

"Morgana," he said and gave her a beseeching look, "about our fight yesterday..."

She paused for a moment and then fled the room, hoping it would appear as though she was fleeing the awkward conversation rather than the scene of her most-recent crime. It was only as she left that considered she could have thrown him off by apologising to him instead.

_I won't. I won't apologise. I meant everything I said. Stupid servant thinks he can reject me and then have everything go on as it did before. I refuse to apologise just so he'll talk to me again, just so I can still be in his life, just so I can see that brilliant smile directed at me again. I refuse._

She gave Alvarr one strange and unexpected thought. He had made his interest clear. He was magic too and unashamedly so. She'd felt the strange pull of it as he'd looked at her. It made her uncomfortable, as though he'd used his magic deliberately to attract her.

_Merlin would never do something like that_, she thought and then lamented her own foolishness. Merlin didn't do it because he was as disinterested as she needed to become.

Morgana made it back to her chambers and cursed the earliness of the hour. She must wait till darkness to make her move. None could suspect her intentions. They were too radical and too unexpected. She would be able to achieve her goal if she could only be patient. She paced the floor of her chambers; kicking a cushion out of her way and making it soar. Patience was not one of her virtues.

* * *

She changed into men's clothes as the sun set waiting for the time to be right. As the midnight bells rang, she sprung into action, making her way quietly down the stairways to the vaults. There were so many cells and chambers with so many artefacts. Still, as a magical artefact, the crystal itself would be locked away securely. She began to open doors, hoping to quickly find what she was looking for.

It seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, before she unlocked the metal gate to a small room and found a large crystal, larger even than her hand, lying in a maroon pillow.

She picked it up and cupped it in both hands; wondering if she would be able to feel the power that apparently flowed through it.

"Out of curiosity," said a voice, "just how stupid do you think I am?"

Morgana spun around; the incriminating crystal still held firmly in her hand.

"Merlin!" she gasped.

"Milady," he said, his eyes flicking to what she was holding.

"What are you... how did you...?"

"Mordred and his friends infiltrate Camelot and go straight to your chambers; risking their very lives to see you. The next day you break into Arthur's rooms and steal the keys to the vault. Arthur calls me an idiot; it's hard to realise you think that of me as well."

"No, I..." she rallied herself, "I don't have to answer to you."

"Unless you want me to summon Arthur and the guards and have you arrested, then yes, you do.. Put the crystal back and we'll go to your chambers. We can't be discovered down here."

"You're not... you're not going to turn me in."

He paused then shook his head.

"Put it back, Morgana, then give me the keys and come along. We need to talk."

She gently placed the crystal back in its cushion, locked the door to the vault, then grudgingly handed over the keys and began walking back to her room. He stormed on beside her for a while, obviously angry, then dropped back to a respectful distance when they reached the main corridors.

_Ever the servant_. _Damn you, Merlin_.

They reached the chambers and she walked in then turned around to confront him.

"I don't see how you have the right to judge me, Merlin," she began.

"Enough!" he seethed, his voice harsh with anger, "I have had enough. I have covered for you and protected you and helped you clean up all of your mistakes but I have had enough."

The arguments she'd formed in their long march back to her rooms fell into dust in her mind as she absorbed what he'd said.

"Covered for me? Cleaned up my mistakes? What are you talking about? What have I ever done?"

"You encouraged Tom to escape and gave him the means to do so; not caring that Uther would shoot him dead as soon as he found him. You were willing to let innocents die back in Camelot so you could feel safe with the Druids when Uther had no clue about your magic and had shown you nothing but support and love."

"Support and love? He imprisoned me or have you forgotten that?"

"No, I most definitely haven't forgotten that. He imprisoned you and so you made a deal to have him _murdered_."

"Wha...? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the deal you made with Tauren to kill Uther."

"How did you...?"

"How did I know? When will you finally learn that I _know everything_. Three men were supposed to kill Uther that day. You killed one. Did you ever wonder what happened to the other two?"

"No, I just... I didn't think that..."

"No, you didn't think. You _never think_. You just act as you see fit with no understanding of how your actions affect people's lives. You want to know one of the reasons I didn't tell you about your magic? Because I didn't trust you to use it properly. You already have power and you constantly wield it just because you _can_."

Morgana turned her back to him then, wondering if for the first time since her father died she was going to break down into tears.

"If I am so abominable, why did you never say anything to Uther? Why did you protect me? Why did you spend the last two years pretending to be my friend?"

"Because I am your friend, Morgana. I really am. I know that you have a good heart and that you want to make the world a better place. But you need to begin considering the consequences of your actions.

"You stole the crystal for Mordred. Why? Did you even ask what the crystal does? Did you ask what they were going to use it for? Did you stop to consider what it would mean putting some kind of magical weapon in the hands of people you don't even know?"

"I know Mordred," she shot back and turned back around to face him. "I trust him."

"And what about who he was with? Mordred is just a child. A powerful child but still a child. Who was he with? What do they want?"

"They want Uther gone. As do I. As should you."

"And how were they going to go about it? Do you even know? If you want Uther gone, you need to find a way to do it that does not involve such... thoughtless action. You need to find the right way to go about it. Because things like this, Morgana, when you do things like this..."

He paused, his face hardening as his voice dropped back to a whisper.

"This is the real reason why I could _never_ love you."

And he stormed out of her chambers, leaving her to dissolve into the tears she had not shed in many years.


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N It grows and just keeps growing. 36? 37? It has developed a wild life of its own. I haven't changed my plan at all and my original story arc is intact; it's just taking me far more chapters to do what I wanted to do. This chapter had to be split into two as it was getting way too long hence the ridiculous cliffhanger at the end (it needs epic reveal music - just think 'dun dun dun'). Read, review and most of all enjoy.**

**

* * *

**

How does it feel when you discover that every day of your life so far has been just another day in the life of a fool?

**Part 1**

He paused, his face hardening as his voice dropped back to a whisper.

"This is the real reason why I could _never_ love you."

And he stormed out of her chambers, leaving her to dissolve into the tears she had not shed in many years.

* * *

"I've never thought any man was worth my tears. Let alone a servant."

Morgana rolled off her bed and looked through bloodshot eyes at the woman who had invaded her bedchambers.

"Morgause, what on Earth are you doing here?"

The tall blonde woman stood before her in her men's riding clothes; her wild hair framing her face, a striking yellow glint to her brown eyes.

"I needed to talk to you. I apologise. It must be a shock to find me in your chambers."

Morgana smiled at that. "Trust me, the last few days I've felt as though my rooms were an inn on a major trading route. I may as well start charging board for the number of people who have walked in uninvited."

"Uninvited... but not unwelcome, I hope?" asked Morgause.

"No," said Morgana, her smile widening, "definitely not unwelcome."

The other woman walked over to her and touched her cheek.

"You look tired, child. Did my bracelet not help you?"

"Yes it did, very much. It's just been a tiring few weeks."

"Because of that boy? The one who was here?"

"Did you hear...?"

"Not much. I tried not to eavesdrop. But I did hear what he said before he left the room. It does seem strange, my dear."

"What does?"

Morgause shrugged. "He is just a servant and it seems a judgemental one. I cannot imagine what you see in him. Although I suppose we cannot help where our heart goes."

She smiled slightly.

"I was in love once. When I was but sixteen. I was raised by the priestesses on the Isle of the Blessed and men were not allowed. So when I did finally meet one, young and handsome, I embraced love as though it were the very air I needed to live."

"What happened?" asked Morgana.

"What usually happens when we are more in love with love than with the man before us."

She looked around the room for a moment in seeming wonder at its opulence.

"I apologise if I seem mysterious. I have invaded your rooms in the middle of the night and now I cannot even bring myself to tell you why I am here. There are things that I think you need to know. But telling you is not easy. I barely even know where to begin."

Morgana walked up to her and took her hand.

"Now it is you that seem ill at ease. Sit down and I will get you some water and you can tell me what you do here."

"Thank you. I will take the water but I will not sit. I think better if I can pace."

Morgana handed her a goblet and she drank deeply.

"I understand you were visited last night by the rebel Alvarr and the Druid boy, Mordred."

"How could you possibly know that? Do you work with Alvarr?"

"Work with Alvarr?" exclaimed Morgause. "Never. No, I have little time for him or his methods. In fact I have come to counsel you against allying yourself with him."

She glanced at the ceiling and sighed.

"But I leap ahead to the end. There is much for me to tell you before you understand. It is a long story, but I have to tell you the whole from the beginning so please be patient. The bracelet you wear; did I tell you where I got it?"

"Yes. You said it was from your mother."

"My mother also loved. She was a beautiful and innocent noblewoman; kind if slightly naive. Magic was widely-practiced in those days and she had many friends who were sorcerers. One of them was even a priestess of the Old Religion. She had lived once on the Isle of the Blessed and knew the other priestesses who resided there.

"When she was but fifteen, two Knights fell in love with my mother. One was passionate and forthright, the other noble and restrained. The first courted her, and with enthusiasm. The second courted her parents; believing it to be the honourable route to obtain his love. By the time her parents announced her engagement to the second, she was pregnant by the first."

Morgause paced over the window and looked out at the setting moon.

"Pregnant with me. My mother tried to hide it but it soon became apparent. When he learned of her pregnancy, the second Knight refused to cast her aside. But he decreed that her child, that I, should be put to death at birth. If anyone knew of my birth, they would question my mother's fidelity and their children would be tainted by suspicion."

"But what about your father? What did he do? Did he not try to save you?"

"The second Knight was my father's greatest friend and he was merely upset that he had dishonoured him. He resigned himself to his loss and went home to his estates to marry a woman his parents had chosen. She died a year before the Purge started, having recently given birth to a baby girl."

"Then you have a sister?"

Morgause smiled at that. "Yes, I do."

"My mother went into seclusion with a trusted Physician and her friend, the priestess. When she gave birth, instead of having me killed the Physician and the priestess took me to the Isle of the Blessed to be raised by the priestesses of the Old Religion.

"My mother visited me several times when I was young. I found it hard to understand but she grew to love her second husband deeply. Nonetheless, she gave me that bracelet. It was the one thing she had kept that belonged to my father."

"So this is your father's bracelet, really?"

Morgause shook her head. "No. He had it made for my mother but it has the mark of his House upon it. I'm surprised you didn't recognise it."

"Why would I recognise it?" Morgana asked.

"Because, my dear, it is the mark of the House... of Gorlois."

"What? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Morgana, that I am your sister."

* * *

Morgause hid in the dressing room while a kitchen maid brought Morgana a carafe of wine. Morgana had felt a sudden overwhelming desire to have a stiff drink; wine unfortunately was all she could order at this late hour without rousing suspicion.

The maid left with a barely-noticeable look of disapproval and Morgause came out of her hiding place.

"I'm sorry, my dear," she said, as Morgana downed a goblet and poured another, "I know this is a shock but I'm afraid I have more revelations."

"More?" asked a stunned Morgana, "I'm barely able to cope with the one you have already delivered. You're my sister?"

"Yes. But that is not all."

Morgana took the goblet and sat down.

"Not all? Why didn't you tell me when you first came to Camelot? I thought that all my family were dead. I thought I was alone here. To find out that all this time I had a sister..."

"I'm sorry," Morgause apologised again, "I had other reasons for coming to Camelot last time. I knew that you were here of course but I... I knew you had been raised by your father and then by Uther. I knew only that you were the King's devoted ward. I didn't know, I didn't imagine, that you had magic or that you were unhappy. If I had I would have revealed myself many years ago."

"So why did you come to Camelot? Why challenge Arthur? And what happened when he left to join you?"

Morgause waved her hand at the questions then moved toward the window again.

"You and I share a father but I need to speak to you again of my mother. Once she was married to the second Knight, she failed to conceive a child again. Many years passed and she remained barren.

"Her husband was both praised and mocked for his refusal to cast her aside. But, of course, he knew what only a few people did. She had had no trouble conceiving until she married him."

"He was barren, not her."

"Exactly. In the end, desperate for an heir, her husband resorted to magic to help her conceive. He went to her friend, the priestess, and bargained a life for a son."

"To create or save a life, you need to take a life to maintain the balance," said Morgana.

"Yes," said Morgause, surprised, "how do you know this?"

"I have heard this before from someone who wanted to give their life to save another."

"The day she gave birth to a son, my mother died. Her life in exchange for the heir her husband had wanted so badly. Enraged that the price of his bargain was his beloved wife's life, the Knight, now a King, declared all sorcery banned and all sorcerer's lives forfeit. And thus the Great Purge was born."

"Gods," said Morgana, shock propelling her from the chair; the goblet of wine spilling over the floor, "it can't be. You can't possibly mean..."

"Yes," confirmed Morgause, "it is true. My mother was Ygraine, Uther's wife."

"But that makes Arthur...?"

Morgause smiled sadly, "Indeed. Arthur Pendragon... is my brother."


	31. Chapter 30

**How does it feel when you discover that every day of your life so far has been just another day in the life of a fool?**

**Part 2 **

Morgana looked around the eerie candlelit ruins in wonder.

"So, this servant of yours," said Morgause, completely changing the subject all of a sudden, "what was he so angry about?"

"Alvarr and Mordred wanted me to steal a crystal from the castle's vaults. I did but Merlin caught me. He was angry because he believed I acted thoughtlessly."

"He is just a servant. He has no right to judge or question you."

"Maybe that's true," agreed Morgana, uncertainly.

"Still," Morgause continued thoughtfully, "perhaps it would be wise not to dismiss what he said to you entirely."

"What do you mean?" asked Morgana, "there can't be more. Surely there have been revelations enough for one night."

"I wish that were true for your sake, my dear. I really do. Then perhaps your life would not be turned upside down so quickly and so completely. But I have decided that you should know everything. And so you shall."

* * *

"Arthur? My Arthur? Is your _brother_?"

Morgause nodded her assent and then filled her water goblet with some of the wine. She handed it to Morgana who drank it down in one swallow.

"I can't quite fathom it," whispered Morgana almost to herself, "I can't quite believe it."

She sat there for a moment staring into space.

"Wait. Uther used _magic_ to help Ygraine conceive Arthur? _Uther_? That pathetic _hypocrite_. Every atrocity he has performed in the name of _peace_ and _prosperity_; it's all a lie."

She stood up and moved quickly to the door.

"Morgana, no," said Morgause authoritatively.

Morgana turned back to face the woman she now knew was her sister.

"I am going to confront that bastard. I am going to let the whole Court, the whole Kingdom, know that he is a hypocrite and a liar."

"Based on what source?" said Morguase softly. "Where will you say you got this information? What will you do when he denies it? You don't have any proof."

"I...," Morgana stood there; her mouth opening and closing helplessly.

"The word of a sorcerer is hardly going to count as evidence, Morgana. This is not the time to confront him."

"I nearly did it again, didn't I?" she whispered to herself.

Morgause looked at her calmly. "You have passion, Morgana, and strength, but you must learn to bide your time and act only when acting will achieve what you wish it to. Now come, there is something that I want to show you. Will you trust me? Will you come with me?"

"Come with you? Leave the castle? No. It's too dangerous. If Uther discovers me gone again who knows who will suffer this time."

"He will not notice. No one will notice. How do you think I got into Camelot in the first place?"

"I don't know. I don't even know how Alvarr and Mordred came."

"They killed some Knights and snuck in. Alvarr's magic is not strong and Mordred is still a child. But I, my dear, I have been training with the priestesses of the Old Religion since I was a child."

She beckoned her over. "Come, I will not hurt you. You are my sister. I would never hurt you."

Morgana stood in front of Morgause, noticing again the woman's impressively-confident stance and quiet grace. She wished she could be so self-contained. Maybe it would stop her flying off in all directions at the slightest provocation. Thoughtless action. That's what Merlin had called it. His voice rang in her head, _do you ever think about the consequences of anything you do?_

"I need you to take a deep breath and try to stay calm," counselled Morgause. Morgana took her advice, drawing air into her lungs as the sorcerer chanted a few quick words and her eyes flashed gold.

There was a screeching sound like metal clashed with metal and the world around her spun and whirled and dissolved into a thousand stinging pieces as though it was nothing but a construction of sand made by children on a windswept beach.

She came to herself suddenly and sat up on a cold stone floor. She looked around, slightly stunned and confused at the cavernous ruin she found herself in. Vines grew around the edges of the walls and flickered ominously in the light of a hundred candles.

Morgause stood at a pedestal in the centre of room; a great crystal in front of her. She turned as Morgana moved to pick herself up off the floor.

"You're awake," she said with a small smile. "I am glad."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"A few hours."

"A few hours!" Morgana picked herself up off the floor quickly and walked towards her sister.

"I have to leave," she said, a small wave of panic overwhelming her, "it must be long past daybreak and they will have noticed my absence."

"Calm yourself, child, it is still but seconds since you left your chambers."

"How is that possible?"

"We are in the ruins of the castle of Idirsholas. Time... moves differently here. We could be here for years and only hours will have passed in the... real world."

Morgana looked around the ruins in awe. "Is it magic?"

"Of a kind. The Castle of Idirsholas stands on the nexus of three ley lines. It is a point of power; a place where the living world intersects that of the afterlife and of Avalon. Time moves differently here and, if you know how to control it, you can make it move for you as fast or as slow as you will."

"I don't understand," confessed Morgana, though the admission pained her.

"There is no need for understanding, my dear, just acceptance that it is. We will be safe here."

Morgause turned to the crystal in the centre of the pedestal and so Morgana continued her exploration of the ruins she had suddenly found herself in. She turned a corner and found herself face-to-face with seven black Knights.

"Argh!" she gasped and jumped back in shock before realising that the men were not moving. "Morgause," she managed, "Morgause."

Her sister left the pedestal and came over to where she was standing.

"The Knights of Medhir," she explained," do not be worried, at the moment they are harmless."

"But what are they?" asked Morgana, curiosity overcoming her fear.

"There is a legend that tells of a sorcerer almost three hundred years ago who used magic to call Knights from Camelot and ensorcelled them to do her will. The legend says that, when she was killed, the seven Knights of Medhir returned here and became still. It says they will remain so until the fires of Idirsholas burn again."

"Is it a legend," asked Morgana, "or is it what really happened?"

"Like most legends, it is both true and not true. The Knights were dissatisfied with the rule of their King and volunteered to help the sorcerer rid the land of his power. When the King was overthrown, the sorcerer returned here with the Knights. I told you time moves differently here for all of us. The sorcerer trapped each Knight in time so they could rise again if they were needed. Then she made the journey to Avalon; her work here done."

"So these Knights..."

"...can be roused to rid the land of an unpopular King," confirmed Morgause. "If one knows how, which I do not. As yet."

Morgana looked around the eerie candlelit ruins in wonder.

"So, this servant of yours," said Morgause, completely changing the subject all of a sudden, "what was he so angry about?"

"Alvarr and Mordred wanted me to steal a crystal from the castle's vaults. I did but Merlin caught me. He was angry because he believed I acted thoughtlessly."

"He is just a servant. He has no right to judge or question you."

"Maybe that's true," agreed Morgana, uncertainly.

"Still," Morgause continued thoughtfully, "perhaps it would be wise not to dismiss what he said to you entirely."

"What do you mean?" asked Morgana, "there can't be more. Surely there have been revelations enough for one night."

Morgause moved over to her sister and put an affectionate hand on her cheek.

"I wish that were true for your sake, my dear. I really do. Then perhaps your life would not be turned upside down so quickly and so completely. But I have decided that you should know everything. And so you shall."

She put an arm on her waist and they made their way to the crystal's pedestal.

"I told you I fell in love when I was but sixteen. He was a young Druid man. He had some power but not like mine."

"Why do you have so much more power than me?" asked Morgana. "Wait, does Arthur have magic?"

"No, my brother does not have magic just as his father does not. But as for our magic: your magic is not weaker than mine, Morgana, it is just that I have had so much more training."

She shook her head. "We are getting bogged down in trifles. Come. What I have to tell you is more important."

"My love for this Druid did not last but, like my mother, I fell victim to the realities of my own body.'

"You fell pregnant?"

"Yes. I had the child with loving assistance from the priestesses but it was born a boy. They let him stay until he could walk but men were not allowed on the Isle, as I have said, and I ended up sending him to his father to be cared for by the Druids.

"His own father was useless; a drunken layabout who was frightened and jealous of his own son's enormous power, but my boy found a great man to take care of him and teach him. His name was Aglain."

Morgana started at the name. "I know him... I knew him. I met Aglain."

She cast her eyes down at the memory of the Druid's death. "He was a good man."

"He was a great man and he was raising my son into the Old Religion as was right and proper," at this point Morgause's calm manner cracked slightly as she finished, "until Uther sent his Knights to murder him and the other Druids."

"I'm sorry," said Morgana softly. "I ran to the Druids for help when I found out about my magic. Uther believed I was kidnapped and he sent Knights after me... to 'rescue' me. He killed everyone he found. Aglain died trying to save me."

"It was not your fault, but Uther's. I came to Camelot to test my younger brother; to see if he was his father's son or Ygraine's. I hoped that if I told him the truth about our mother that he would see his father for the monster he is. I hoped that he would kill him and take the throne; restoring magic to the land as is foretold."

"What went wrong?" asked Morgana, thinking of Arthur sobbing in the Throne Room; Merlin and Leon looking on.

"I do not know. Every test I posed for Arthur he passed. He proved himself the noble and honourable man his father was before his hatred of magic corrupted him. I drew him here and brought forth an image of his mother to tell him the truth about his birth... more or less.

"He left here knowing how his father's petty desire for an heir had caused him to use the magic he professes to despise. He left here knowing everything about his mother's death and yet..."

She shrugged and turned to the crystal. "I do not know. I scried him later to see if Uther had been deposed but they are closer now than ever."

Morgause gestured to Morgana to draw close to the crystal.

"Here, I will show you its power. It cannot show us what has been or what will be. But it can show us what is. Sometimes that can be just as valuable."

She waved her hand across the crystal.

"Aetiewe me tha the ic sece, Alvarr."

In front of her, Morgana saw the crystal glow, revealing a Druid encampment in the woods. Mordred sat by himself in front of a fire while behind him Alvarr sparred with a blonde woman in men's clothes. As he knocked the weapon out of her hand with a blow of his quarterstaff, he grabbed her to him and kissed her passionately.

"That snake," exclaimed Morgana, "he was making eyes at me the other night."

"I'm afraid it was probably all part of his plan, Morgana. Bring Mordred so you would see someone you trusted and then pretend interest so you would trust him as well. He needs a spy in Uther's home. Finding a warlock like Mordred - young and lost and scared but powerful – was a bonus. Discovering he could use him to recruit you... he mustn't have believed his luck."

"Merlin was right then. He was using Mordred and he was hoping to use me."

"Alvarr wants power for power's sake. He is not interested in restoring the Old Religion but in finding a way to rule in his own right. If he did not have magic as his cause, he is the kind of man who would find another."

Morgana looked at the other woman's sad eyes.

"Mordred is your son, isn't he? Your son and my nephew. This was your other revelation: Mordred was the boy you gave to the Druids. No wonder I felt such a powerful connection both to him and to you."

"Indeed," agreed Morgause, "the magic in our related blood speaks to each other. We would recognise each other anywhere."

"We have to save Mordred and rid Camelot of Alvarr," declared Morgana, "and then Mordred and I can come and live with you away from Uther."

"No, Morgana, that is not why I have told you this."

"Then why? Why did you bring me here and tell me all of these things if it not because you wanted me to act?"

"It is because I have a plan: a plan to infiltrate Alvarr's rebels and use them for my own purposes. A plan that will serve both our interests."

"How? In what way?"

"This crystal sees the present. The Crystal of Neahtid, which Alvarr desires, sees all; including all possible futures. In the hands of a warlock as powerful as Mordred, it will be a great weapon. We cannot let Alvarr possess it.

"When we are done, Alvarr will see the crystal slip between his fingers but he will believe nonetheless that he owns you. And then we will use Alvarr's rebel forces and your position in Uther's household to bring the King down."

"And the Knights?" asked Morgana.

"The plan I am proposing will take many years of hard work and preparation. If I could rouse the Knights, then my plans could be brought forward. If I could rouse the Knights, I would not need Alvarr and Uther could be overthrown within a single day. But until that day, we have to plan, Morgana. And then yes: once Uther is gone, you, Mordred and I can live together... in Camelot."

Morgause gestured at the crystal.

"Did you want to try?"

"Use magic? Are you sure?"

"Of course," replied Morgause, "you have the power. I will show you. Repeat after me... 'Aetiewe me tha the ic sece' and then the name of someone whose life you wish to scry. Try it, 'Aetiewe me tha the ic sece'."

"Aetiewe me tha the ic sece... Merlin," repeated Morgana.

The crystal glowed and she saw him; torch in hand descending some steps in Camelot that looked like the steps to the vault.

"What is he doing? It is past moonset. I expected him to be abed."

Morgause smiled.

"This servant you have such affection for, this Merlin?'

"What about him?"

"I saw him when you argued with him. He was angry and disappointed but he desires you."

"Are you sure?" asked Morgana, the hope sliding up inside herself.

"He is looking for a sign that you are the woman he wants you to be. His disappointment in your actions is what made him so angry; it's what made him lash out the way he did. If you wish, we can use this opportunity to give him that; to give him what he needs to allow himself to feel for you.'

"But how is that possible?" asked Morgana.

"If I remember from my time in Camelot, he is Arthur's servant. We could use his help. When we are done, we will have infiltrated Alvarr's rebels and the boy will be yours. If that is what you wish."

"Yes," replied Morgana, bluntly, "it is." With so much honesty flying around, it felt liberating to just admit it to another person.

"Very well. Although there is one thing I do not understand."

"What is that?"

"The boy is just a servant. I do not understand why you are concerned about his feelings at all. I don't know why you haven't just ordered him to your bed as any other woman of your rank would do."

Morgana just stared at the woman she now knew was her sister in shock. _Is there anything he wasn't right about? Is there any part of the world I thought I lived in that is the way I believed it to be? Have I been so blind all this time? _And a small insistent voice in her heart shouted, _Yes!_

* * *

**A/N For those interested, in many of the quote-unquote 'original' legends of Camelot, Morgana and Morgause were the daughters of Ygraine's first marriage to Gorlois (she married Uther after Gorlois' death) and Mordred was Morgause's son. None had magic, although Morgana was originally a healer (actually if we go back far enough, she was a faerie hence the name 'Le Fay', which isn't a name at all but a description).**


	32. Chapter 31

**Lies will always come back to haunt you. But truth? Truth is the greatest weapon we have. Tell someone the truth and they will overthrow Kingdoms for you and never ask you for a reason why.**

Morgana landed back in her chambers with a whirl of stinging sand as before. This time, she retained her feet and her consciousness. Morgause said it was something to do with only one person travelling that way instead of two. Morgana didn't understand but didn't care.

_I have a sister. An amazing magical sister. And a nephew. I have a family away from this madness, away from Uther._

The morning bell was ringing as she quickly changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. Winter was upon them and the mornings were dark and icy; the sun not due to rise for another three or four hours at least. Her fire had died in the hearth and she shivered as she snuggled underneath the blankets to get warm.

Her timing was perfect: she had only just slid into her cold bed when Gwen sneaked in to her chambers and relit the logs to warm the room for her. She feigned sleep while her maid scurried quietly about the room and then, once the heat of the new fire began to warm the cold stone, she pretended to wake and greet the day.

She washed, dressed, did her hair, and carefully put on the white dress she had been trapped in so many months before. Then she took a deep breath, mentally rehearsed her lines, and went to see Merlin.

If Morgause's plans worked, she could have everything she ever wanted.

* * *

"Merlin?"

She stood at the door to Arthur's chambers and greeted him softly.

He turned around in surprise and then turned back to his laundry. She tried to break the sombre mood with a joke.

"Don't you ever get that laundry done? I feel as though you've been doing it for weeks."

He looked at her briefly but didn't smile.

"It has to be done everyday, Milady, as do most of my duties."

"Merlin..."

He turned around and looked at her; his face set in a perfect blank expression that reminded her of her own.

"I wanted to tell you... I came to say..."

She smiled at him, trying to make it warm but confused. "This doesn't come easy for me. It's not what I'm used to doing. But I came to say..."

She stopped and took a deep determined breath.

"You were right."

"What?" he said bemused.

"You were right. You were right about everything. You're _always_ right about everything. About me, about the... things I do... about Alvarr..."

"Avarr?"

"The leader of the rebels who came to my chambers with Mordred the night before last," she explained. "You were right. I didn't ask him any questions, I didn't try to discern his motives. I just saw Mordred and heard the word magic and I... I leapt like I always do. I was so angry about those children in the cells and I thought this great magical hero had walked into my room and was going to fix everything."

She smiled wryly.

"I'm such a fool, Merlin. In the light of day, it's so obvious that he was using Mordred to get to me. Someone that manipulative can't be worth following, I'm sure of it. I'm just glad you stopped me before I did something stupid... again."

He sighed and threw the rest of the laundry into the basket.

"Morgana, we all make mistakes. We all make bad choices. The truth is that when I found out about your plot to kill Uther, I was tempted to let you get away with it. I want to be free to live without fear as much as anyone. I know you only want to make the world a better place. I just wish that you would take a moment to think before you act."

Merlin looked at her then also took a deep breath. "Morgana, about last night. I'm sorry too."

"_You're_ sorry," she managed, "Merlin, between the two of us, you have nothing to apologise for."

"No, I do. I was angry about you taking the crystal and acting without thinking... again... but I shouldn't have said..." he paused and swallowed before finishing, "the last thing I said to you. I shouldn't have said it. I was just..."

"Disappointed in me, I know."

She took a few steps toward him where he stood by Arthur's half-stripped bed.

"I think I disappoint you a lot, don't I? The thing about disappointment is it implies faith. Why do you have such faith that I can be better than I am?"

He shrugged. "I just do."

She nodded then gave him a shy look she'd mastered a long time ago and took his hands in hers.

"You know, I was talking to one of the courtiers the other day and complaining about this... friend of a friend's cousin or something... who was stupid enough to fall in love with a servant. I said the servant had rejected her and do you know what she said?"

Merlin shook his head, no.

"She said 'I do not understand why she is concerned about his feelings at all. I don't know why she hasn't just ordered him to her bed as any other woman of her rank would do'."

Morgana flicked her eyes up to look at his wary ones through her lashes.

"It turns out you were right about that too. The thought that I put you in that position... Merlin, I am so sorry."

She watched carefully as the wariness in his eyes softened. He moved his hands to her shoulders and gripped them softly.

"It's alright. Just so long as you understand why..."

"I do," she said, reaching up and re-arranging his neckerchief so it sat properly on his chest. "I understand completely."

He gave a small wry smile. "I thought you'd be angrier than this. I thought you'd be angrier than this for a long time."

"I know that I've been... selfish and vindictive in the past. But, well," she said, finishing with his neckerchief, "I've suddenly discovered it's hard to stay angry at someone you... care about. Besides, after what I did, after what you said, I thought you'd be angrier too."

"I was," he admitted, "I was very angry. But I also haven't forgotten the good things you've done. Coming with me to Ealdor to fight those raiders and being there for me when Freya died. I... I particularly haven't forgotten that."

She stepped back slightly; not wanting him to think she was going to proposition him again. She'd just apologised; she didn't want to anger him. She gave him a deliberately-appraising look as though she was trying to get the courage to say something.

"I've been thinking. About what you said."

"Which part?"

"The part about considering the consequences before I act. The truth is, I was angry because you have magic but you always seem to just... react and I wanted to _do something_. I want those children released before they can be executed and I want to know that they'll be safe and cared for. I want Uther overthrown and magic restored to the land. But now... now I don't believe Alvarr is the man to do it. I think he wants power more than freedom."

"Well, he won't get the crystal now. You didn't give it to him."

"But he'll be planning something else; something that we don't know about. And he won't approach me again if I don't come through for him this time."

"Morgana," he said reprovingly, "what insane plan are you devising now?"

"One where I think things through before I act. One where I can learn Alvarr's plans, rescue the Druid children, and make sure Alvarr never gets his hands on that crystal."

"Oh, I'm going to regret hearing this, aren't I?" he said, with a spark of his old whimsical self.

She moved forward so she was close to him again.

"You give me the keys to the vault and I steal the crystal."

"Morgana," he interrupted her, "if this is some manipulation to..."

"No, no, of course not. Please, hear me out. I steal the crystal then I ride to where Alvarr and his rebels are hiding but you follow me. I hand it over and you ride straight back to Camelot and tell everybody that Alvarr has stolen the crystal and you know where it is. They raid the camp and steal the crystal back, arrest the rebels, and take everyone back here."

"Okay," said Merlin, "if you know where Alvarr is, why don't you just send the Knights to his camp to arrest him now?"

"Two reasons," she replied. "Firstly, Alvarr is not a Druid and nor are most of his men. Without evidence of treason, Uther has no reason to arrest him. The crystal gives us that evidence. But also... if I send Knights to Alvarr's location, he will know I betrayed him. But if I take Alvarr the crystal then he believes me his trusted ally. I free him and the other rebels from Camelot's cells so it looks like a rebel escape..."

"...but the children get released as well. Alvarr will see them as new recruits for his rebellion and he will take care of them," finished Merlin.

"If we pull this off, Alvarr trusts me completely. I am able to discover his plans and help thwart him. And one day I can free Mordred from his manipulations."

Merlin gave her a thoughtful look.

"Morgana, I can't let you do this. It's simply too dangerous. If Alvarr were to see through you..."

"He won't. Merlin, I've spent nearly a year in Camelot since I found out about my magic and the King has never discovered my secret. Uther may be a hypocrite and a tyrant but he is no fool. If I can play the role of devoted Ward, I can fool someone as arrogant as Alvarr."

He nodded cautiously.

"Alright. There are a few small things that need to be worked on but yeah, this plan could work."

He gave her the first genuine smile she'd seen in weeks.

"Are you entirely sure this is your plan?"

She smiled back and took his hands again.

"It's our plan now."


	33. Chapter 32

**__****So, I apologise for any confusion due to my indecision. I wrote this chapter and it was too long so I split it up and posted part 1. Then I realised part 2 didn't work on its own. So this is now the complete chapter. **

**A/N *peeks out behind curtain and says shyly* hello regular reviewers... have I scared you away? A big shout out to the newbies who have just come on board. Thank you for all your reviews. And to Brickroad16 who remains my stalwart (thank you!)**

**A note about this episode: I came up with this convoluted idea to explain Morgana's conversation with Arthur when she tries to talk him out of investigating the Valley of Chambray but it was genuinely too contrived. So, just pretend that scene never happened.**

**

* * *

**

Make any argument you wish in your own defence but at least admit the truth that we are all happier when we feel in control of our own lives... and of others.

She stood in her chambers hearing the warning bells ring and had a sudden blinding flash of panic at what she had wrought in the name of Morgause's plan. And then she remembered the orphaned children and how much Merlin had thawed in only a few days. And she steadfastly steeled herself for the day's audience with Uther.

* * *

Once again, Morgana ran down the stairs to the vault. She had thrown her green cloak over her white dress and clutched the keys in one hand and a torch held in the other.

"I'll be cooking Arthur dinner," Merlin had said, "and I will make it as delayed as possible. That way, if the warning bell goes I will be with him and will help throw him off the scent. It's my job to keep people out of his rooms so he'll probably blame me if I'm there to be blamed."

She ducked and weaved around the guards' patrols until she got to the vault. Was it only one night since she had been here? With the untold hours she had spent with Morgause in Idirsholas, it seemed like days. Once again she unlocked the steel door and took the crystal from the maroon cushion.

It took so little time; it seemed almost an anti-climax after the scheming and manipulations that had come before it. Crystal in hand, she ducked back up the stairs then secreted the magical object in her cloak and strode purposefully back to her chambers.

No one questioned her. Why would they? She was the lady Morgana returning to her chambers from some outing. She was unremarkable.

* * *

She stood at the edge of the ruins of Idirsholas and watched the endless night on the other side of that invisible barrier of magic.

"Do you spend much time here?" she asked Morgause, "does it not get difficult to see an unchanging landscape without the natural turn of the day."

"I live most of my time on the Isle of the Blessed and come here only to plan or scry or to access the world beyond."

Morgana stared at the darkened landscape for a moment more and then asked the question she barely dared to voice.

"Can you teach me some more magic?"

_Yes_, said a voice in her mind, _I can teach you this. How to use it. How to hear it when others use it._

"Will it take me long to master?"

_Concentrate, my dear. It is no great task. You already have the skill and the will. It is all that is required. Just concentrate._

* * *

She sat at her dressing table; forced to change into her nightgown because Gwen was there fussing around with some last-minute chores. Merlin would be there soon and the crystal, that powerful crystal, was in her drawer beckoning to her.

"Thank you, Gwen, that'll be all," she said finally.

"Nearly done," replied Gwen cheerfully.

"It's fine Gwen, you can go," she said more forcefully, hoping the dense girl could take a hint. Gods, no wonder she and Arthur were in love. They were both so unbelievably stupid.

"It won't take a moment," said Gwen, just as cheerfully.

"I said you can go," she yelled, finally.

"My Lady." Gwen curtsied, obviously upset, and left.

Her maid finally gone, she pulled the drawer out and freed the crystal. It sat there in her hands as she stared into its depths and saw... absolutely nothing. Morgause had said only the most powerful sorcerer could use the crystal. It was confronting that that was obviously not her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She looked up to see Merlin at the door; his lanky frame leaning against the wall. She was struck, and not for the first time, at how ordinary he looked.

"Don't you want to know?" she asked, holding the forbidden object out to him. She wondered if it would reveal itself to him as it had not to her.

He shook his head. "No. I'd rather it was back in the vault. I know I'll sleep better when it is."

She smiled at his cautious... Merlinness... and dropped the crystal back into its bag.

"How's Arthur?"

"Furious. He's furious, the King's furious. Uther blames him and he blames me. He's been tasked with searching the town. They're starting at the south end so you should leave through the tunnels in the armoury to the north. I'll leave a horse for you there and will wait nearby to follow you. Anyone looking will see me following you without your knowledge. As planned."

She grinned. "Three hours before sunrise by the armoury. I guess I _won't_ see you there."

"Hopefully not," he said and returned the smile. "Good luck."

* * *

"Morgana!" shouted Mordred, excitedly as he ran across the camp to hug her. She had never seen him so happy and so carefree and all because of his joy at seeing _her._ She threw her arms around him and marvelled at how wonderful it could feel to embrace somebody with whom you shared such unconditional love.

"We were expecting you yesterday," yelled Alvarr as he came across the camp to greet her, "but we are really just glad you came at all."

"I had some troubles obtaining the key to the vaults," she explained, "but I am here now to give you this." She drew the crystal out of her cloak and handed it to him; noticing the reverential way he stroked it and the victorious way he clasped it in his outstretched hand.

He gave her a deep and sincere mile; the slightest touch of seductive smirk around his mouth. She smiled back shyly; trying to resist the urge to rebuff his obvious advance. _I grew up in a King's Court, fool. I know all your tricks. And I am better at them._

"Thank you, My Lady. Now please, stay for some tea. It will help warm you up on such a cold morning."

* * *

"He covered for me, you know," said Merlin over his shoulder as he went to leave her room.

"Who?"

"Arthur. He knew how much trouble I could get in if Uther knew I left his rooms unlocked. He told the King someone broke in."

"As he should," declared Morgana, "everyone knows how loyal you are."

"Maybe. But still, he didn't have to. I just thought... now and then... that it's the kind of thing about him other people should know. I just thought."

* * *

Alvarr walked across from the fire and handed her a beautifully-warm mug for her cold fingers. He sat down on the log next to her.

"It is my hope that, with time, Mordred will master the crystal. When he does, we will strike Uther down. Uther and all who serve him."

"All who serve him?" exclaimed Morgana, horrified despite herself.

"If we are to win this war, there can be no half measures. I see this troubles you."

"Yes, yes it does," she admitted. _Merlin, Gwen, Gaius... Arthur, Leon... the list of those who serve goes on for miles. What had Gaius said? 'You act as though we have a choice in who we serve.' Should they all die for Uther's crimes?_

"My Lady, we fight for our very survival as do you. The boy told me you have magic."

He saw the small frightened look that flew across her face and added, "you need not be afraid."

"I know," she smiled as though embarrassed, "I'm sorry; I've become so used to concealing the truth."

"Believe me; I understand what that feels like," he said.

She made her lip quiver slightly.

"Everyday I must look Uther in the eye knowing that if he discovered who I really am he would have me killed."

Alvarr leaned forward to look her in the eye and gently put his hand on hers.

"You have been very brave," he stated. He had truly mastered a grave expression of concern and earnestness. _Manipulative snake._

"I don't want to be brave," she said with a self-deprecating smile, "I just want to be myself." She met his eyes and let her lip quiver again at the raw impact of honestly, "I don't want to be alone anymore." _Meet the master manipulator, snake. And you thought you were playing me._

"You are not alone," said Alvarr earnestly. "You're here, with us. You need never be alone again."

He leaned forward as though to kiss her and she mirrored his movement; pulling suddenly away as if flustered by what nearly happened.

"I must be heading back," she stated.

"Farewell then," he said softly, "My Lady Morgana."

* * *

"I will follow you to Alvarr's camp and return to Camelot but I can't just burst into the Throne Room and tell everyone that he stole the crystal," said Merlin. They were in Morgana's chambers refining the plan.

"Why not? Uther seems to trust you."

"Maybe, but he'll still want to know how I know. He might even think I'm working with the rebels but got an attack of conscience or something. I'll have to tell Gaius. If Gaius tells Uther that an informant came to him, Uther will believe him."

"You can't tell Gaius, Merlin, this plan is between you and me only. I don't want anyone else to know."

"It's alright," he said, "we can trust Gaius. Morgana, you of all people know that we can trust Gaius. I already told him about Mordred and that you... that you tried to steal the crystal. He would not tell Uther."

"Then tell him I succeeded."

"What?"

"I don't know if Alvarr has other spies in Camelot, Merlin. To everyone but you and I it must look as though I am his. Tell Gaius I successfully stole the crystal. If I can trust Gaius, then I can trust him not to tell Uther and get me executed."

"I don't like lying to Gaius."

Morgana opened her mouth to sharply tell him that he lied to everyone every day but shut it again.

"I don't like lying to him either. But this has to be perfect, Merlin. Please."

He nodded guardedly and she smiled at him and pressed his hand warmly.

"Thank you, Merlin."

_

* * *

_

Open your mind. Magic is all around but you and I have been born with it inside us. Speaking is as natural as breathing and this is just a way of speaking. Open your mind and concentrate.

* * *

She sat in the Throne Room as Gaius delivered his lines perfectly: a source scared for his life and the Physician he trusted to protect him. Merlin, standing beside Gaius, cast her a brief conspiratorial glance as their plan unfolded. Then she changed quickly into her more-serviceable green dress and ran to the Valley to warn Alvarr.

* * *

"You played him well," remarked Merlin as she walked into Arthur's chambers. He was cleaning up after breakfast.

She smiled in a way Arthur had once described as evil.

"It wasn't hard. I've found it more difficult to talk four-year-olds out of their favourite toy. He gives me a few compliments and an earnest look of appreciation for my bravery and he thinks I'm completely enamoured. This will be easier than I thought."

He gave her a look that may have been disapproval... or jealousy? Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

She feigned a look of concern.

"You don't think I really feel an attraction to him, do I? I mean, not like I feel for..."

She smiled as though she was embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's alright," he reassured her. "I'm just worried about your safety."

She walked up to him and put her hand lightly on his stomach.

"I'm glad you're worried but I will be fine. If I can survive 13 years in Uther's court, I can handle someone like Alvarr. Trust me."

He nodded. "In that case, I think it's time Uther found out where his crystal is."

* * *

"Morgana?" cried Alvarr as he and his men backed away and put away their swords.

"Alvarr."

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"Arthur's been sent to capture the crystal. The Knights of Camelot are almost upon us."

"How has this happened?" asked Alvarr angrily as they made their way to the renegade's camp.

"I don't know," replied Morgana, "I only know that we've been betrayed."

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know. An hour, maybe two. I cannot say for sure."

"Then we must be prepared for them."

"What can I do to help?" she asked, knowing that he could not risk having her found there and would ask her to leave.

"You can flee while you still have the chance." He turned to her and fixed her with the sultry earnest glance that seemed to be his only expression.

"Morgana, I am grateful for all that you have done but a battlefield is no place for you." And he leaned forward as though overcome with emotion and kissed her passionately on the cheek.

* * *

"I will have to ride out and warn him of the raid," she told Merlin in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Morgana, no, it's..."

"Merlin, if you say it's too dangerous I swear..."

He smiled and shrugged.

"It is too dangerous."

"If I don't warn him, he'll think I betrayed him. I need to do this, Merlin. Besides, he will believe I am so enamoured of him that I would risk my life to send him this warning. It suits our purposes."

"And what will you do when he begins expecting you to demonstrate this affection?"

_

* * *

_

I can do it. I can feel that's something changed. Can you hear me?

_Yes, sister, I can._

_How can I hear when other people are mind talking?_

_There is no skill. Now your mind is attuned, you will hear when those near to you speak._

* * *

"Merlin!" she cried in relief as he walked into her chambers. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.

"You were gone so long I feared you were unsuccessful... or worse."

He stood ramrod still for a moment in her embrace then put his hands around her lower back and rubbed it soothingly.

"I'm alright. Everything went to plan and Alvarr is in the cells. It took us a while to get the prisoners back to the castle and we had to camp overnight."

"Was there much of a battle?"

He nodded tiredly. "They ambushed us but we had the day."

"And Mordred?"

"I tried to ensure his capture so he would be safe but he misunderstood. Morgana, he used magic to kill several guards."

"He's young and frightened. You can't judge him for..."

"No. You're right. No matter what anybody says, Mordred is just a scared child being used by someone he trusts to care for him."

She rested her head against his chest.

"I'm glad you see that. I'm glad you are forgiving enough to allow us these mistakes. Mordred is like me, Merlin. He needs to feel somebody cares for him. I..."

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

"It worries me."

"What does?"

"It worries me that, if I didn't have... somebody I cared about.... I wonder if Alvarr's manipulations would have worked on me. I wonder if I would have seen through them or not."

"Of course you would have, Morgana. Besides, Alvarr is... slimy... and his manipulations are obvious; especially to someone who grew up at Court. So do not worry. For you to feel affection for him would be... completely out of character."

"Merlin," she began determinedly, "I know that you don't love me..."

"Morgana..."

"No. Please... I know that you don't love me. But you are always here for me when I need you and I wanted to thank you for that. Alvarr can strut around the forest all he wants. You're my real hero. You always were."

And she leant up and kissed him gently on the cheek as Alvarr had done only a day before and then she turned and left. It was time to play her role for Uther.

* * *

Alvarr was dragged into the Throne Room and forced to his knees in front of Uther.

"So you admit to stealing the crystal of Neahtid?"

"I do," replied Alvarr calmly.

"You admit to plotting against your King?"

"I do."

"And you acted alone? You were not aided or abetted by any citizen of Camelot?"

Morgana looked up at that; hoping that she hadn't miscalculated, hoping that Alvarr wouldn't expose her. _He must be hoping I'll free him, surely. I can't do that behind bars._

She met Merlin's eyes briefly and saw her concern mirrored in them. He clenched slightly and she wondered whether he would defend her or not. She wished she knew more about the part of him that was Camelot's protector. She wished she knew when he would act.

"I acted... alone," declared Alvarr and she saw Merlin relax and flick her a slightly relieved look.

"Then I find you guilty of treason," stated Uther calmly. "You are an enemy of Camelot, Alvarr. You are sentenced to death."

"Then I die with honour," declared Alvarr; already painting himself the martyred hero. "Being an enemy of Camelot is no crime. And you, Uther, you are the criminal."

As Alvarr was dragged out of the Throne Room, Uther walked over to Arthur and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Alvarr, the other renegades, and the Druid children will all be executed tomorrow. Make the preparations."

Arthur nodded and exited with the Knights. As the Throne Room began to clear, Morgana did something she had promised she would not do while Morgause's plan was still in motion. She thought of those children being executed the next day and she lost her temper.

* * *

She strode from the Throne room; glad that her plan had worked, glad that Alvarr and the children were free, glad that she had infiltrated the renegades and they were ready for her to seed Morgause's influence over them.

And terrified. Terrified that Uther would discover her hand in all of this. Terrified that her childish outburst had jeopardised the position in Uther's court that Morgause needed. Terrified once again for her life.

"If I ever discovered who helped Alvarr," she heard Uther's words ringing once again in her head, "they will wish they had never been born."

She tried to read, sleep, write and even kicked her favourite kicking cushion around a few times. Then she left and ran straight down to Gaius'. She had a sudden desperate need to see Merlin.

* * *

She gestured the guards to leave the room and they closed the doors behind them with a satisfying thud.

"How many more must you kill before you're satisfied?" she spit at Uther.

"He was guilty," he replied, tiredly, "he confessed his crime. You heard him as well as I."

"His only crime was to defy you."

"Why are you defending this man? He is a sworn foe of Camelot. You know this."

"Is it any wonder he wanted you dead? You who have persecuted his kind day after day, year after year. You who murder children in the name of your own piece of mind."

"I will hear no more of this, Morgana."

"Because you're an arrogant fool. You are deaf and blind to the very needs of the people you profess to serve and protect. The people will tolerate it no longer."

"I said enough!"

"They are rising up against you," she said, her voice rising with her anger.

"From this day forward, I do not know you. From this day forward, I disown you."

"You will go to your chambers," he demanded impotently, as though she were once more a petulant 10-year-old who would not obey him because he was not her father.

She had turned to leave but stopped at the close doors.

"And you Uther, you will go to hell."

* * *

She walked into the Physician's chambers to find Gaius and Merlin finishing dinner.

"My Lady Morgana, what can I do for you this evening?" asked Gaius politely. He was as kind and considerate as usual. You would not know Merlin had told him she was working with Alvarr.

"I... I wanted to speak to Merlin," she said; suddenly uncertain.

Merlin stayed staring at his bowl as though he hadn't noticed she was there.

"Merlin?" said Gaius.

"Umm?" he said and looked up finally.

"The Lady Morgana wishes to speak with you."

"Oh. Um." He stood up and gestured towards his room and she followed him up the stairs.

* * *

She handed the guards the drugged mead and walked into the cells. It was a risk, of course, but she hoped their own desire for self-preservation would keep them quiet. Letting her in to the see the prisoner against the King's orders was bad enough but they were also not allowed to drink on duty.

She approached the bars and Alvarr stood up to greet her. With the guards listening, she did her best to communicate to him that his way was clear to escape for both him and the other prisoners.

He slid his hand through the bars to touch hers as he thanked her.

Then she walked off, hoping to hell everything went to plan; hoping that her stupid outburst to Uther did not lead him to suspect her in the escape.

* * *

She followed Merlin into his room. He walked over to his bed and sat down on it staring at the wardrobe.

"We were successful," she began, trying to pretend the plan was the reason she was there.

He said nothing in reply and she gave herself a mental kick. She'd been so caught in everything that she hadn't noticed how withdrawn he was.

She walked over and put her hand on his head.

"Merlin, what's wrong?" she asked carefully as she gently stroked his hair.

"I shouldn't have let you go and warn Alvarr."

"But it was necessary," she argued. "If he believed I betrayed him, we would have lost our leverage on him."

"I lost the trail, Morgana. I couldn't remember which path to take and it held us up for nearly 15 minutes. The rebels shouldn't have had enough time to act on your warning but they did. They ambushed us and many people were killed."

"The Knights and guards?"

He nodded. "Leon was seriously injured."

Morgana thought of Leon: her wonderful childhood hero. These were the servants Alvarr was intent on killing.

"It's not your fault, Merlin. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I talked you into this. I talked you into everything."

He shook his head and looked up at her.

"The responsibility was mine. I have to accept that and live with it. I always do and I always will."

"Always?" she asked teasingly.

"We all make mistakes, Morgana. Mine have been worse than most. And they will be again."

He nodded sadly and stared at the wall. She considered what to do but then sat down beside him and put her arm around him.

"Merlin, when I told you that you were my hero, I meant it. I don't believe you will ever make a mistake that bad. Do you remember the fight we had the night I stole the crystal?"

"I shouldn't have judged you like that. I have my own mistakes to regret."

"But you regret them, Merlin. That's important. Do you think Uther regrets his mistakes? Do you think he dwells on them? Do you think he feels sorry about them? This is what makes you a better man, Merlin. This is what makes you..."

She took a breath and girded her proverbial loins.

"This is why I love you."

And she cast caution to the wind for the second time and kissed him.

And this time he didn't push her away.

_

* * *

_

Merlin. I'm waiting, Merlin. You gave your word. Now, set me free. Merlin.

Morgana sat up as the deep voice resounded in her mind. She had a memory of a dream before she wore the bracelet. A dragon cried Merlin's name in anger and this... this was the same voice.

This was a voice using magic to cry out to the man she loved in the middle of the night. She lay back down trying to make sense of what was going on as the voice continued to silently roar.

_Merlin!_


	34. Chapter 33

**A/N have you read the updated Chapter 32? If not, read that first.**

**

* * *

**

Every which way I turn there is a man demanding I be what he wants me to be. When will they learn there is no good or evil in the world, just people and the things that they do.

Morgana lay in bed; the memory of Merlin's soft lips on hers playing through her mind. It was just as she had imagined; sweet and gentle but with a sense of the great reservoir of passion and power restrained behind it. It was Merlin. Completely Merlin.

She'd leaned forward and pressed her lips to his and he hadn't pushed her away but had lightly kissed her back. Then she'd kissed his forehead and put the exhausted boy to bed.

Morgause had been right. Truth was the greatest tool we had to bending those around us to our will.

"Lies will always come back to haunt you, my dear," she'd said. "Alvarr's lies have already been exposed and Uther's lies will be his downfall in the end. But truth? Truth is the greatest weapon we have. A well-timed truth delivered in the right way is better than any falsehood. Tell someone the truth and they will overthrow Kingdoms for you and never ask you for a reason why."

"But you told Arthur the truth and it didn't work," Morgana had argued.

"For now. But one day, Uther's lies will be exposed and my truth will be in his mind. Who will Arthur trust on that day?"

"I don't understand. You're waiting for Uther's lies to be exposed? That could take years."

"Perhaps. But you should never just have one plan, my dear. And you should always be ready for the easiest act to fail."

Morgana stared at her canopied bed and imagined what might happen next time she saw Merlin alone. Her mind went to places it hadn't daren't go since he'd rejected her advances.

_Merlin. I'm waiting, Merlin. You gave your word. Now, set me free. Merlin. _

Morgana sat up as the deep voice resounded in her mind. She had a memory of a dream before she wore the bracelet. A dragon cried Merlin's name in anger and this... this was the same voice.

This was a voice using magic to cry out to the man she loved in the middle of the night. She lay back down trying to make sense of what was going on as the voice continued to silently roar.

_Merlin!_

Finally, unable to handle the curiosity and confusion anymore, she threw a cloak over her nightgown and went back to Merlin's room for the second time in one night.

She ran quietly down the corridors, avoiding the guards as she was so expert at doing these days, and let herself into Gaius' chambers using a spell Morgause had taught her to open doors. She crept past the sleeping physician and let herself into Merlin's room.

He was standing by the window still fully-clothed; his hair rumpled from what was obviously a disturbed rest and his skin once again glowing in the bright moonlight.

"I think I prefer it when you stand here shirtless," she couldn't help herself saying.

He smiled slightly at that.

"I thought I put you to bed," she said softly; moving forward and cupping his face with her hands. "You were exhausted."

"I couldn't sleep."

"And why is that?" she asked, as though she did not already know. _Please confide in me, Merlin_, she thought to herself, _please tell me_.

He shook his head and tried to fake a happy look. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, Merlin," she said, slightly disappointed. "You and I seem to do nothing but fight lately. I don't want to have another one." She looped her arms over his shoulders and around the back of his neck and then kissed him softly.

"I heard him," she whispered. "I heard him... in my mind. I've seen him before; yelling your name in anger in my dreams. But tonight I heard the... dragon... myself. Who is he, Merlin?"

He said nothing and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to tell her even then. The silence dragged until she was ready to start the fight she had been trying to avoid.

"The last dragon," he answered her finally, "captured by Uther in the last days of the Purge. He's chained beneath the castle. He's always helped me; always guided me. But he's always had only one motive."

"To be free?" she guessed. That was what the voice had been demanding: freedom.

"When Sigan nearly destroyed Camelot, I made a deal with him. If he gave me a spell to defeat the sorcerer, I would free him one day."

"So free him," she said frankly as she used her fingers to tame his unruly hair, "he is a trapped magical creature. So am I. He should be free."

"Because I don't know what he'll do. He hates Uther with a passion that borders on madness. I don't trust him not to harm everyone else in Camelot to get his revenge on the King."

"Oh, Merlin," she sighed, "this considering consequences is exhausting. I think I preferred it better when I acted without thought. If you don't trust the Dragon, don't free him."

"I gave him my word, Morgana."

She didn't have an answer for that so she kissed him again, more passionately this time. He responded in kind and they stayed like that for a while, their bodies getting used to the other one being so close; their mouths learning how the other one kissed.

"He doesn't like you, you know," Merlin said when they finally broke apart. She had pulled him even closer to her and wrapped her arms around; her head on his chest. She had done this so many times now that it felt natural. She may be the Lady Morgana and he a peasant but he was taller and her head fit perfectly next to the open v in his shirt.

"Who doesn't like me?" she asked; completely distracted by the new sensations he engendered in her.

"The Dragon. He doesn't like either you or Mordred. He wanted me to kill Mordred. When you tried to steal the crystal, he said I had to stop you no matter what it took and that... he said that you and Mordred were evil."

"Why does he hate us so much? We didn't even know he was there."

"Exactly. I won't... I can't commit an atrocity just because a dragon tells me that you and Mordred will do something horrible together in the future. And yet...."

"And yet, what?" she asked, slightly appalled that there could be any qualification to that statement.

"And yet, he is always right. And he says Mordred will be the cause of Arthur's death."

"You can't be serious," she snapped and stepped back from him. "What are you saying? That Mordred is evil because Mordred is evil? He's a child. He will be what we make him. Or what? That I am evil because some dragon tells you so. That makes all my efforts and all your faith in me worthless. It makes anything we do worthless.

"We're not characters in a ridiculous story where the villains are villains just because they oppose the hero. That's Uther's reasoning. Those are Uther's words. Why on Earth would you tell me this?"

He gave her a relieved look and pulled her back into his arms.

"I told you so you'd do that. Remind me how wrong it is, how wrong he is. There may be a future out there that looks like the one he's talking about but it doesn't have to be that way. Gaius says that the future is as yet unshaped and that it will be our decisions and actions that shape it. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else as well."

She stepped back and removed her restrictive cloak, wondering if she should tell him about Morgause. How would he feel about her and this dragon's prophecy if he knew it was Morgause's will to infiltrate Alvarr's forces and eventually use them against Uther?

She'd just made some progress toward capturing his heart. She didn't want to ruin it.

"Milady, you're wearing only your nightgown. Have you been running through the castle like that?"

"I had my cloak on. Nobody saw. Besides, you've seen me in my nightgown before."

"Yes, but not when we're..." and he blushed.

She walked back over to him and slid her hands up to his chest.

"Not when we're what?" she queried, flirtatiously and he blushed redder.

"I love it when you blush like that," she whispered and she untied the laces of his shirt and pulled it apart to expose the top half of his chest. She ran her finger down his neck to his collarbone. "It goes all the way down past your neck. I wonder how far it goes?"

And she slid his shirt over his head in one quick movement.

"I wasn't joking about the moonlight you know. When I first saw you like that, I thought you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen."

He gave her an embarrassed look.

"I am not beautiful. Arthur is beautiful. I look like an ungainly colt that has taken human form."

"Arthur is handsome not beautiful. There's a difference. Arthur doesn't have your eyes," and she closed his eyes with her fingers and kissed each of them in turn, "or your smile," and she kissed him on the side of his mouth, "or your hands," she picked them up and kissed each of the palms gently.

"Or my clumsiness," countered Merlin.

"I love your clumsiness," she told him, "because it's a part of you. Just as I love your passion. And your ears."

"No one could love these ears. Only my mother loves these ears."

"I do." And she reached up and stroked one softly then kissed him again, more passionately than before. The kiss deepened unexpectedly and she felt her hands slide across the soft skin of his naked back as he kissed her like she had never been kissed before.

He pulled away after a minute; his forehead against hers.

"Morgana, I... I don't... I mean, I've never...," he smiled wryly as he confessed, "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Neither do I," she admitted. Then she took his hands with the small calluses that had been in her dreams and moved them to her shoulders. They shook as he slipped the nightgown from her shoulders to lie around her feet on the floor.

"Let's work it out together," she invited him and put her lips to his; her tongue sliding into his mouth as a young man had once shown her many years before.

They both gained in confidence as they embraced each other; their hands roving lightly at first and then with more urgency as they touched and explored. They stumbled back together towards the bed and then...

They both looked at the hard tiny pallet in the cold servant's room.

"I suppose it could work?" she suggested, imagining an awkward, cramped first time in a bed barely large enough for one person let alone two, "or maybe the floor?"

"It hasn't been sanded in years," he admitted.

They looked at each other and suddenly found themselves laughing naked in each other's arms.

"I don't think we planned this very well," she said, between outbreaks of mirth.

"We didn't plan it at all. I think that's the problem."

"Oh dear," she managed, "we could go back up to my chambers?"

He shook his head. "No. This has been well-averted. If we're going to... I mean... I want it to be something special for both of us. This," he gestured at his bed, "this isn't it?"

She nodded, for the first time finding herself cursing his honour.

They both quickly dressed and she turned around and kissed him goodbye.

"Raincheck?" she asked, worried he might change his mind.

"Definitely," he said and he gently kissed her goodbye.


	35. Chapter 34

**A/N *does happy dance* 200 reviews! Thank you! *does second happy dance*. I've never had 200 reviews for one of my stories – even A Lion and Unicorn never got 200 reviews. **

**Thank you to Brickroad16, EllieBaby, GuildedDragonfly, Kizzia, Catindahat, sarahelizabeth1993 and Chloris who have reviewed every or almost every chapter and, in some cases, have been there with me right from the beginning when no one was reading this story. You, to use an analogy that will make Bricks happy, are the Captain Awesome's of the fan fiction world. And to all my new reviewers - welcome aboard and thank you.**

* * *

**I have done everything the world wanted, been all they wanted me to be. But I am tired of it now, the world owes me.**

Merlin was right. How many times in the last few weeks had she thought that and yet here she was again. Merlin was right.

He was a servant. She wasn't. She passed him in hallways and he stood aside and bowed; his eyes downcast as they should be, no special recognition or acknowledgement on his face. She tried to find time to see him but he was always at Arthur's demanding beck and call; always busy.

She walked into a room and couldn't show pleasure that he was there, sat in feasts where he would refill her glass and had to pretend she barely noticed him, had to watch him laugh and joke with other servants such as the wretched _Muriel_ and say nothing, tried to sneak to his chambers after dark to find him gone on some fool errand with his master.

She slipped an anonymous note onto a breakfast tray he was carrying to Arthur's only to watch in horror as the Crown Prince made his way to their rendezvous after his meal. He must have thought the note was from Gwen.

Gwen. Gwen seemed suddenly to be always there. She was cleaning her chambers or laying out her clothes or endlessly spending her nights on her small cot in Morgana's rooms so she could tend to her mistress' needs at all hours. Morgana wondered if she was keeping herself busy to stop pining after Arthur.

My love, she wrote to Merlin a dozen times, I have to see you. But the weeks flew by and it did not happen.

"Are you alright?" Gwen ventured once, softly and timorously as she dressed her one morning.

"I'm fine Gwen, why wouldn't I be?" she replied tersely.

Gwen gave her one of her insightful looks and ploughed on despite the hard ground.

"You just seem... unhappy. Ever since... maybe ever since the Witchfinder... you just seem unhappy."

Morgana cursed her unkindness. Taking it out on Gwen wasn't fair. The girl had always been a good friend and maid and Lord knows she shouldn't judge anyone for where their heart went.

"I'm fine, Gwen," she said more kindly, "but you know my relationship with the King is not good."

Gwen paused and then bravely said, "you know I am not the King's greatest advocate, My Lady, although I brave my life in saying so. With everything he has done or tried to do to me... but we do ourselves a disservice if we live with hate. One day, Arthur will be King and everything will be better."

"And what if it isn't, Gwen?" she ventured. "What if we wait ten long years for Uther's passing and Arthur is just his father reborn."

"He won't be, My Lady," replied Gwen surely, her faith an amazing light shining out of her, "but if he was... then we would endure as we always do. The world we live in isn't that bad, in the end. We all find joy somewhere."

Morgana looked at herself in the mirror: the perfect hair, the jewellery, the elegant green dress and yellow sash, the flawless skin and imagined that as her life every day for the rest of her existence.

"I can't do it," she whispered, so her maid wouldn't hear. "I want too much. I just... I want."

She left the room then sat next to Uther while Camelot's petitioners spoke of petty concerns: a neighbour using their designated fishing spot and stealing all their fish; a missing pig; a land boundary dispute.

She and the King said nothing to each other, not a word, until she got up to leave. Then he gruffly told her that her behaviour was not appropriate for a member of the royal family.

"You are a Lady, Morgana, and my Ward," he said, his voice hard. "You will be on time, you will be courteous to the petitioners, you will show the ordinary people of Camelot some respect."

"Respect is never shown for my views in this household," she responded flatly, "why should I show respect for the views of others?"

"Because it is your duty," he said bluntly, "because you owe it to me and to Camelot. You are like a daughter to me, Morgana, but my daughter's needs come after the needs of my Kingdom. Arthur understands this. Why can't you?"

She left the room, upset, then smiled with relief as she found herself miraculously in an empty corridor with Merlin. She quickly dragged him into an alcove; grateful for this small window of time to talk.

"Uther has Arthur and the guards hunting Alvarr," he whispered, "we have been in the Forest of Brachvar for a week and leave Camelot again tomorrow at dawn."

"But why does he insist on taking you on such a mission?"

Merlin shrugged, "I always go. It's what I do."

"Can I see you tonight, then?" she asked, "I will tell Gwen to go home and..."

"Morgana," he interrupted her, "I have an expedition to prepare for tonight. I will be spending the time in the stables and preparing provisions."

"Then I will help," she offered.

"The King's Ward cannot be seen in the stables helping a servant clean tack," he said with a conciliatory smile, "all hell would break loose. And Arthur needs the group to leave tomorrow at dawn."

She considered anger at Arthur always being considered before her, then calmed herself and went for levity.

"You owe me a raincheck, Merlin," she said lightly and she risked gripping his jacket to pull him close for a quick kiss.

"I... I know," he said hesitantly, "it's just..."

"I know," she whispered, "you were right. You're a servant and it's difficult and we have to make sure that nobody even suspects. But I still want you in my life. I want _you_."

"I know," he said, "but... milady, no matter what happens, remember I will always be your friend. Always."

"I'm glad of that, Merlin. I really am. But I want more."

He looked down for a moment then met her eyes with a piercing gaze that made her legs turn to jelly.

"So do I," he admitted huskily, "but maybe this is a sign that I was right the first time. I was so upset last month about.... about so many things. It affected my judgement. Maybe we should have let things be."

"You can't actually be saying what I think you're saying."

"Morgana, the risk..."

"I don't care about the risk."

"I'm sorry but I have a greater obligation that I need to consider. And maybe..."

At that she did lose her temper.

"And maybe you should stop putting Arthur's needs before everybody else's," she snapped. "This is all I have heard all my life: that there is someone or something more important than me. My own father even died for Uther and he _left me here alone. _Merlin, why can't you... and Arthur... and even _Uther_... put my needs first just for once?"

She stormed out of the alcove and down the hallway; thanking her luck that it was still deserted.

"Morgana," he called after her but she ignored him.

"Morgana!"


	36. Chapter 35

**A/N So, this is a bit of an experiment and so frank and fearless feedback is welcome. It's kind of a 'previously' from a TV show or, more accurately, a kind of quick cut of images from the story so far. Think of the beginning of the Season 5 finale of Buffy. Does it work? Is it boring, confusing? Let me know.**

* * *

**There are images that come unbidden after dark. How does the mind replay the path that led you to this place?**

Of all the memories she has, there is this one that her mind replays.

Merlin accuses Bayard of lacing Arthur's goblet with poison and drinks the liquid to save his master's life.

She sees the boy run in, sees him raise his arm to salute the Prince, sees him gulp down the toxic fluid. She admires his loyalty, his bravery, his temerity. But she does not ask herself whether she has these qualities within... not until now.

* * *

She looked out into the darkness beyond her window, trying to gauge the time since she had fallen asleep; since Merlin had left her chambers.

"I'm glad you're back," he'd said and he had meant it. She'd looked into his eyes and seen nothing but genuine concern; despite who she was, what she was. Despite even the stubborn decision that had led to so many deaths.

"I'm glad you're back."

With those words, she had looked anew and seen an anchor in a high tide, a port in a violent storm.

* * *

"Did you know Merlin tried to free you by confessing to sorcery?" she asked her maid. Guinevere was sitting on the ground in the cell; her simple brown dress stained with the dirt that the guards could never be bothered cleaning.

Gwen smiled sadly; only slightly cheered by the news.

"I think he must really care for you to do something like that," Morgana said.

Her maid shook her head.

"Merlin would do something like that for anybody."

"If you say so," she replied, but she thought that Gwen was too modest. What else but love could motivate such sacrifice?

* * *

"I never got the chance to thank you for helping to rescue Gwen. Arthur is a trained Knight and it was his duty but you didn't have to go."

He paused, seeming to marshal his thoughts.

"Thank you, Milady, but... it was my duty. I'm Arthur's servant as he is Camelot's. Even if I hadn't wanted to rescue Gwen... which I did, by the way, of course I did but... I would still have been by his side. It's my duty to him as his is to Camelot."

"I'm still grateful," she said with a nod, "there are many servants who would see all you do as far and beyond the duty of a manservant".

* * *

"Merlin said something to me the other day about you being a servant to Camelot," she said to his tense back.

"Your voice is no longer heard and you are forced to do tasks you would not choose. Maybe he was right. And maybe you need to ask yourself who your master really is."

* * *

"You do realise that if you fail, Arthur will be dead."

"I won't fail," he said seriously.

She found herself appraising him; every clumsy, lanky, amazing inch of him.

"You really will do anything for anybody, won't you?"

"If they're a friend and they need me. Yes."

* * *

"What if you don't choose magic? What if magic chooses you?"

And he'd looked at her as though he _knew_.

* * *

She couldn't understand it. He was tall, true, and that smile could light up the entire Kingdom. But he was lanky with that funny angular face and big ears. The black mop of hair on his head was badly cut and his clothes hung off his gangly form as though they were hand-me-downs from someone who ate more... or ate at all.

But he was always there for her; attentive and kind. He was the one she could rely on. And then there was the way his pearl-white skin had glowed by moonlight... and those eyes... those beautiful, deep-blue eyes. That must be it, she thought, it's the eyes.

* * *

She had sat silent while Merlin accused Aeridian of deceit. She saw him walk in, his blue eyes flashing with his loyalty, his bravery, his temerity. He may as well have drunk from the poisoned goblet, may as well have placed his head upon the chopping block and laughed at the axeman, because a capricious King could ignore him completely and put him to death just for fighting back. He did it for her just as he had promised and she has never had someone do something so noble and so selfless in her name before...

And she hates this sudden doubt. She has always strived to treat servants as worthy people but has still believed in her core that noble birth made people better.

There is a memory she has that a servant was once a better man than a King. He drank from the poisoned goblet risking death but somehow gained life instead.

* * *

The problem with Merlin was that he was Merlin. And there was simply nothing she could do about it.

* * *

"I can tell you one thing, my Lady Morgana, and it is something that I believe will interest you. Something I think you should know."

She turned back, puzzled by the strangely inscrutable look in his face.

"What happened... well... I cannot tell you. But I can say that after Arthur there is only one man I admire."

"What do you mean?" she asked, more curious now than angry.

"Merlin, My Lady. I think that, if not for his birth, he would be a man I would be proud to call a friend. A man who embodies more of the qualities admired in a Knight than many of the noblemen I have served with. But he was born a peasant, unfortunately. But I think... I think I am not the only one who wishes that the world we live in could be... different."

He walked up to her and took her hands again. "The world is unfortunately as it is and we cannot change it. He is a servant. We are nobility. That is the way it is. But still," he smiled at her; one sweet smile, "it would be nice. Both for us and, I think, for him. I think."

* * *

It had been like this since Morgause had lured Arthur away and returned him even more determined to follow in his father's footsteps. He and Uther were closer than they had ever been and the executions had gotten more frequent and more unfair.

She thought about what Merlin had said. There were sorcerers in Camelot; hidden and safe and able to protect themselves should Uther ever discover them. That made her even more convinced that the people burned and hung and beheaded and beaten and imprisoned and tortured were either innocent or so powerless as to be no threat.

* * *

"That's because you're not like Merlin," she'd said; purely trying to manipulate him into helping kill the creature that plagued them. "He's a lover."

The remains of Arthur's leftover breakfast were strewn messily across the table, the Afanc was in the water supply, and Gwen was in prison.

"Poor Merlin," she'd said, "offering to give up his life for Gwen's. I certainly can't imagine anyone loving me like that."

* * *

Everything that she had convinced herself to be true was a lie; everything she had thought about her life was false. Merlin did not care about her; did not love her.

His small acts of service, his support and friendship, his concern for her wellbeing, they were all just a job, a duty; things he felt he should do. And she, like an idiot, had built their relationship in her own head to something bigger, something grander; the delusion of a great forbidden love in a hostile world.

To think it was less than a day since she had called Arthur a fool.

She fought a battle with her mind but could not stop it relaying the images, the conversation. Merlin planning to leave Camelot. The kiss; as sweet and soft and pure as she had long imagined theirs would be. It was all just so Merlin. Damn him.

She was the Lady Morgana, the First woman of the Kingdom and its most beautiful. Men were lined up to worship her. How dare a servant, a skinny, gangly, big-eared, funny-faced servant prefer another to her? How could it be possible that he would even notice another woman when she was in his world? It was preposterous. It was unthinkable.

* * *

What had the girl said? "_You keep doing all this for me. I don't deserve it."_

It had stuck in Morgana's head because it sounded so much like Merlin and because she couldn't imagine at any stage thinking that she didn't deserve the things that Merlin did. She always thought she deserved everything she got.

* * *

She walked up to him, drew her arm back and slapped him hard across his face, leaving a red palm mark on his cheek. Then she moved forward and slid her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, finally. "I saw her. I saw you. I know. I know everything. And I'm so angry. And I'm so sorry."

He stood stiff in her arms for a moment as her words sunk in. Then he collapsed suddenly against her shoulder; the tears pouring down his face as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

She slid down the wall and leant against it; his head lowering to her lap. She sat there with him, his grief pouring out of him, and knew the joy that came from being in service to one you love.

* * *

"So, what are you saying, Gaius? That I shouldn't throw away my comfortable life in search of... what? Happiness, satisfaction, control... love? What if I'm not happy? What if I feel as though my great comfortable life is a prison? What if I had an opportunity to gain happiness?

"Are you saying that your sister would have been better off ignoring her feelings just because things did not turn out well for her? That it would have been better for to keep her life of privilege and not take a chance on happiness, a chance on love?"

"I'm saying, my dear, that sometimes the pursuit of happiness is not enough. Sometimes love is not enough. Sometimes people have to consider the kind of life they want to live; the things they would have to give up and whether they would still be happy when the... tyranny of the mundane... takes over their life."

* * *

She put her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know how you do that," she sighed, using her spare hand to refill her goblet.

"Do what?"

"Make these sacrifices. Drink the poison. I don't think I could do that. Not for Camelot, not for anyone, even if I cared about them. I'm too much of a coward. I want too much to live."

"You stand up to Uther," he whispered, "that counts for something."

"I didn't stand up to him when Gaius was being dragged away by Aeridian. I didn't stand up to him then. You did. I thought it then."

"Thought what?"

"I want to be brave like you. I want to be brave enough to drink the poison."

* * *

"I love you. I genuinely love you."

He opened his mouth to speak and she gestured for him to let her finish.

"I don't love your magic or your power. I loved you before I knew you were a warlock. I loved you from the minute you came to me after the Druids to see if I was alright. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for me; you're always willing to endanger yourself for the people you love. I don't know anyone as brave or as caring or as wonderful as you."

She gave a hopeless gesture and continued.

"And you're right, we're not equals. We can't be. But not because I'm a noblewoman and you're a peasant. We're not equals because I love you, Merlin. I love you, so I am the one in servitude to you. I am the servant here and it is you who have all the power."

* * *

"I can take care of myself, Merlin. I am not one of your... damsels in distress... who needs you to protect them. And I would appreciate it a great deal if you would stop leaving gifts in my room. Such objects of affection are hardly appropriate under the circumstances."

"I'm sorry, Milady, I wanted only to be of service."

"Well then, serve the inadequate masters you have chosen over the lives of innocents," she seethed. "Leave me out of it.

* * *

He paused, his face hardening as his voice dropped back to a whisper.

"This is the real reason why I could never love you."

And he stormed out of her chambers, leaving her to dissolve into the tears she had not shed in many years.

_

* * *

_

_I have a sister. An amazing magical sister. And a nephew. I have a family away from this madness, away from Uther._

* * *

"I'm sorry but I have a greater obligation that I need to consider. And maybe..."

At that she did lose her temper.

"And maybe you should stop putting Arthur's needs before everybody else's," she snapped. "This is all I have heard all my life: that there is someone or something more important than me. My own father even died for Uther and he _left me here alone. _Merlin, why can't you... and Arthur... and even _Uther_... put my needs first just for once?"

* * *

"The Knights of Medhir," she explained," do not be worried, at the moment they are harmless."

"But what are they?" asked Morgana, curiosity overcoming her fear.

"There is a legend that tells of a sorcerer almost three hundred years ago who used magic to call Knights from Camelot and ensorcelled them to do her will. The legend says that, when she was killed, the seven Knights of Medhir returned here and became still. It says they will remain so until the fires of Idirsholas burn again."

"Is it a legend," asked Morgana, "or is it what really happened?"

"Like most legends, it is both true and not true. The Knights were dissatisfied with the rule of their King and volunteered to help the sorcerer rid the land of his power. When the King was overthrown, the sorcerer returned here with the Knights. I told you time moves differently here for all of us. The sorcerer trapped each Knight in time so they could rise again if they were needed. Then she made the journey to Avalon; her work here done."

"So these Knights..."

"...can be roused to rid the land of an unpopular King," confirmed Morgause. "If one knows how, which I do not. As yet."

* * *

Morgana opened her eyes. Another night without sleep. Something must be done. Something had to change. Dead children, dead innocents, imprisonment and torture and no place for her in the world she had been given. Her hatred of Uther was all she had left. And she would do something about it. And soon.


	37. Chapter 36

**When all our flaws and failing are made bare, when our world is crumbling around us and there is no way through, that is when we see ourselves plain. That is when we see who we truly are. **

Morgana ran, hysterical and terrified down the halls of the castle; Merlin beside her as they dragged the King along the floor trying to escape. She looked up to see one of the Knights of the Medhir pursuing them slowly and determinedly. Unstoppable, unkillable; unmistakeably the Knights she had seen while at Idirsholas.

_When the fires of Idirsholas burn_, she heard Gwen's voice say in her head, _the Knights of Medhir will ride again._

Morgana slipped on the edge of her impractical dress, landed awkwardly on the ground, then quickly swivelled around; crawling backwards away from the giant faceless Knight that approached her almost as if he was in slow motion.

"Merlin!" she cried. _This was my dream. I dreamed this. Why did I not recognise the Knight when I was at Idirsholas? I trusted Morgause and now she has killed me_.

She looked around and Merlin gave her a strange and uninterpretable look and then began dragging the King away from her.

"Please!" she begged him. The Knight was almost upon her.

Merlin turned and ran faster and she swung back to her fate. The Knight drew back his sword and she hid her face. But the blade stopped at her neck and the Knight moved on.

She stood up and ran and she, Merlin and Arthur barricaded themselves into the Throne Room. Morgause had instructed the Knights not to kill her but Merlin had chosen once again to protect a Pendragon over herself. She looked around the room, Arthur talking animatedly constructing plans within plans and Merlin casting her suspicious glances but still protecting her secret.

How had she gotten here? What path had led her here? Where did it all go so wrong?

_

* * *

_

One day before

Morgana walked into her chambers, wondering what on Earth she was going to do that day. She had refused to attend Court; standing beside Uther looking beautiful was no longer a task she would undertake and she had told him so. He had reacted to it as though it was childish pique and was waiting for her to get bored and change her mind.

It was just moving from winter into early spring but it was still cold so she moved to close the window when she realised it was open. On the sill was a box and inside the box was a note from Morgause requesting her to sneak out of Camelot after dark to see her. She smiled. It was perfect timing.

"Are you alright?" said Gwen's voice behind her and she quickly folded up the note and slipped it up her sleeve.

"Yes," she replied vacantly, closing the window, "just a little cold."

"Would you like something warmer?"

"No, thank you," she said, more assuredly then noticed Gwen's suspicious look. She would not tell anybody of her suspicions, Morgana knew, but still her maid was too damn perceptive.

"Are you alright?" she countered, noticing Gwen's paleness and hoping to distract her from her suspicions.

"I'm fine, My Lady," Gwen smiled and flushed slightly, "I'm just a little concerned about the... guards."

"The guards?"

"Riding out with Arthur and Merlin to Idirsholas," explained Gwen, as though she could not believe Morgana hadn't heard.

"Idirsholas!" Had Morgause been discovered? Was she discovered?

"A shepherd saw the fires of Idirsholas burning," explained Gwen, "and Arthur was sent to investigate. Gaius says that when the fires of Idirsholas burn the Knights of Medhir will ride again."

"Well, that sounds like superstition to me," said Morgana sharply. Then she wondered how she was going to kill the long hours before meeting with Morgause. _She's done it. She's roused the Knights against Camelot's unpopular King. Soon, hopefully, she will rid me of Uther._

_

* * *

_

Twelve hours before

Should it be so easy to sneak out of the castle? It seemed she had so much practice now; sneaking around guards and opening doors without witness. She ran down the steps by the outer wall and before anyone could notice she was beyond Camelot's borders.

She made her way to the rendezvous point in good time under the bright full moon. People said so much about the moon; was that the reason the Knight has been roused? Was that the reason they rode again?

She turned around and Morgause was behind her; all wild blonde hair and confidence. She smiled in relief to see her dear sister.

"You look well," she said happily as she placed a caring hand on her arm.

"Thanks to you," she replied and stroked her bracelet, "I can't remember when I last had a bad dream and the other things that were keeping me awake... I try not to let them trouble me anymore."

"But you do not seem happy? Why is that? Your serving boy?"

"Chose his master over me. He does not love me. And also... I'm tired of pretending."

"Pretending?"

"That I'm Uther's loving ward. When I hate him."

Morgause gave her an appraising look.

"Have you ever imagined a new world, Morgana? One where Uther was no more?"

"Of course I have. You know I have. But I... it's strange, I once had the chance to be his assassin."

"What stopped you?"

"I don't know. I believed he cared for me. But not anymore. He cares for no one except perhaps his son. A son who becomes more like his father every day. The executions, Morgause, the cruelty. It is getting worse."

"So you want Uther destroyed and his reign to end?"

"More than anything," she admitted, "but it doesn't matter what I want. The future's not of my making."

"You are wrong, Morgana. You underestimate your importance. The decisions you make now will change the shape of everything that is to come."

"What do you mean? I thought.... I hoped... that you had brought me here to tell me that you had found the way to rouse the Knights."

"Maybe I have," replied Morgause, "but still I need to know. It's more important than you can know. Whose side are you on, Morgana? Are you with Uther or are you with me?

"Forget all that you have said and done before tonight. Answering this question now is what matters. Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?"

Morgana looked at her, determination building up inside her as she considered what Morgause had said. She could wait long years for Uther's passing only to find Arthur was his father reborn. And Merlin? Merlin would sit and wait while atrocities piled up around him, refusing to use his great power to act. She knew what she had to do.

"I am," she said.

Morgause walked up and put her hand maternally on Morgana's cheek.

"I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."

And the world went black.

_

* * *

_

Five hours before

Everyone had fallen asleep. Each of them, one by one, falling around her. Gwen, Gaius, Uther, Leon, Vidor and the rest of the Knights and guards. She'd woken up in her bed in Camelot confused and disorientated. She remembered meeting Morgause and then... nothing.

"Morning My Lady," Gwen had greeted her, already yawning. Gaius had thought it was a sickness and had looked for a cure but had fallen before he could even diagnose the problem.

And now the whole city was asleep. She stood awake at her window, Gwen's prone body behind her, wondering what it meant. And wondering what to do. And wondering if it was her fault. _It can't be_, she thought, _Morgause talked about Knights and an attack. It must just be a coincidence. It must just be._

_

* * *

_

Four hours before

She heard yelling and footsteps. _Oh Gods, the Knights. Was this the plan?_ _Were they here? Would they kill her too? Would Morgause betray her like this?_

She ran and hid and hoped they would assume everyone was asleep. She hadn't been hidden long when the curtains were ripped back and she was dragged out. She put up her arm to fight back before hearing Arthur's voice penetrate her consciousness.

"Morgana!" he yelled, "Morgana, it's me. What's happened?"

"I didn't know it was you."

"Calm down, Morgana, just tell me what's happened?"

She took a few quick breaths to calm herself and then managed.

"People were complaining, saying they weren't feeling well."

"And what then?"

"They started falling asleep. Everyone, everywhere I went."

"Was someone here? Why were you hiding?"

"I told you I didn't know who you were."

"Where's my father?" demanded Arthur unsympathetically.

"I don't know."

"Arthur, she's distressed." She heard Merlin's voice from behind her. Of course, the two had gone to Idirsholas together. It seemed strange to hear her defend her; as though she was in another, earlier life.

"If she was awake, then she must have seen something," Arthur insisted.

"I didn't see anything."

"You saw people getting sick. What did you do?"

"What could I do?" she demanded.

"Morgana, I don't understand. Why is it that you're the only person awake?"

She just stared at him, unable to frame a reply. Because she didn't know. And even if one small part of her knew, it wouldn't admit it. This was not her fault, she was sure of it. _But then you never think anything is your fault, do you?_ whispered her conscience.

"Come on," Arthur directed them, "we have to find my father."

He strode out of the room with Merlin and Morgana behind him.

"Don't worry," he said to her, "I won't say anything."

"About what?" she asked him

"About the illness."

"It's nothing to do with me," she defended herself.

"No, of course not but you have magic," he noted.

"You haven't told anybody about that!" She pulled up short, horrified that he had betrayed her secret. _I kept yours. I kept yours even from Morgause who is my family. Tell me you haven't told anyone._

"No," he confirmed, "and I won't tell Arthur but... there must be something keeping you safe and I think that must be it."

She looked at him standing there - all neckerchief and over-large clothing and big ears and earnestness and protectiveness - and she wanted suddenly to launch herself into his arms and confess all.

And if hadn't have broken her heart, she probably would have.

"I've found him!" she heard Arthur yell and the moment was broken. She and Merlin took off toward the Solar from whence Arthur's voice had come.

_

* * *

_

Three hours before

Arthur had left her alone with the King and a sword. Of all the ironies. Arthur had questioned her time and again about why she wasn't ill and Merlin had fed him a convincing lie about a treatment Gaius had given her before succumbing to the sickness himself.

Still, maybe Merlin was right. Maybe her magic protected her as it seemed to be protecting him.

She looked at the King prone on the table in front of her; asleep and helpless like a child and not the arrogant tyrannical monster he actually was. This was her time again, wasn't it? He was helpless, she had the sword. She could make up any story she wanted for how he died.

She continued to sit there, hoping that someone else would come in and do the task for her.

_I was right,_ she thought, _I am a coward. No wonder Merlin doesn't love me. No wonder Morgause abandoned me. No wonder my father would rather die in battle than live for me. I am unworthy._

_And pathetically self-pitying. For Gods' sake, woman, are you going to spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself? Pathetic._

_

* * *

_

Two hours before

Merlin was affected by the magic, as was Arthur. It wasn't her magic that protected her, although he persisted on perpetuating the lie to Arthur. Everything that had happened and he continued to protect and support her. Damn him.

He'd gone to get clothes for Uther so long ago. Was he alright? She didn't know what she'd do if something she had brought forward harmed Merlin. He was the one person in this gods-forsaken place she still cared about, no matter what she tried to tell herself. When he was with her she was not alone, at least for a little while.

_

* * *

_

One hour before

Merlin burst through the door into the room.

"I was worried about you," she said truthfully.

"They're here, they're in the castle," he said after giving her one strange look. He did not clarify who 'they' were but she assumed they were the Knights. This was it.

"Where's Arthur?" she asked.

"Gone to find somewhere safe to move to," said Merlin in reply, busily wrapping Uther up in a blanket so they could slide him easily across the floor.

"Thank you for not saying anything to him," she said, wondering if this was the last time she would have to tell him how she felt.

"It's aright."

"You're a good friend, Merlin. After everything that's happened I... thank you. For always being such a good friend."

He just looked at her; his white face paler even than usual, the sweat dripping from his forehead. The spell was taking hold now and she knew he didn't have long.

Arthur ran into the room.

"We have to move my father before Morgause gets here."

"Morgause," she breathed. _Oh Gods, it was. It was her. All of it. It had to be. Uther dead, Morgana, focus on that. This is good news. Morgause will use the Knights to kill the king and all you wanted will be delivered and Merlin need not know that it was you. She is your sister. She will not harm you._

She looked at Uther's helpless body on the ground and wondered why she did not feel the victorious satisfaction she suspected.

"You're not surprised?" asked Merlin, as the three of them began dragging Uther's body out of the room and into the servants' quarters.

"No, I am," she protested.

_

* * *

_

Fifteen minutes ago

Morgana ran, hysterical and terrified down the halls of the castle; Merlin beside her as they dragged the King along the floor trying to escape. She looked up to see one of the Knights of the Medhir pursuing them slowly and determinedly.

Morgana slipped on the edge of her impractical dress, landed awkwardly on the ground, then quickly swivelled around; crawling backwards away from the giant faceless Knight that approached her almost as if he was in slow motion.

"Merlin!" she cried. _This was my dream. I dreamed this. Why did I not recognise the Knight when I was at Idirsholas? I trusted Morgause and now she has killed me_.

She looked around and Merlin gave her a strange and uninterpretable look and then began dragging the King away from her.

"Please!" she begged him. The Knight was almost upon her.

Merlin turned and ran faster and she swung back to her fate. The Knight drew back his sword and she hid her face. But the blade stopped at her neck and the Knight moved on.

She stood up and ran and she, Merlin and Arthur barricaded themselves into the Throne Room. She looked around the room, Arthur talking animatedly constructing plans within plans and Merlin casting her suspicious glances but still protecting her secret.

"There has to be something we can do!" yelled Arthur. He paced the length of the Throne Room then turned back around.

"Unless we can rid ourselves of this sickness, I don't see how we can hold out," he said.

"We have to destroy the source of the magic," said Merlin, almost to himself.

"Which is?" asked Arthur, hopefully.

"I don't know."

Arthur looked frustrated.

"Our only chance is to get out of Camelot," he stated forcefully.

Morgana looked at Merlin who was still casting her strange impenetrable glances while Arthur outlined his ludicrous plan.

"You cut the blanket up, we'll tie it to my father and then we'll lower him out of the window and onto the cart."

"Arthur," she began but he interrupted her.

"Just do as I say Morgana, please. I'll fetch the cart round to the window."

"You're going out there?" asked Merlin, appalled, "I'll come with you."

Morgana looked at the two standing by the barricaded doors; both barely awake now, giant black circles under their eyes.

"You won't reach the cart alone," stated Merlin, "it's suicide."

"I have no choice," said Arthur then he and Merlin nearly fell asleep leaning against the door. At least until Merlin slapped him.

"If you ever do that again..." Arthur threatened him.

"Well, don't fall asleep then," yelled Merlin.

They heard the Knights of Medhir gather outside the door. Arthur slapped Merlin on the shoulder and the two pulled up the bar on the door.

"If I need a servant in the next life," said Arthur jovially.

"Don't ask me," quipped Merlin. Arthur laughed and Morgana saw, for one small moment, how close the two truly were, how much Arthur trusted him. _This is how it is when no one is around to judge_, _this is the reason for Merlin's loyalty, this is the man Arthur could be. Why did I ever doubt him?_

"He's not going to survive out there," she whispered to Merlin, barely able to acknowledge that it was her that had led to Arthur's inevitable death.

Merlin turned around; a flask of water clasped in his hands.

"We've got to do something," insisted Morgana.

Merlin gave her an intense look.

"I know."

_

* * *

_

Now

Morgana sat on the ground tearing up blankets for Arthur's ridiculous plan and wondered whether, if she just kept tearing, if she would run out of blankets and look up to find the world had returned to sanity around her.

She looked up at Merlin's back, ramrod straight in front of her. He had said he was going to make some rope but was instead just standing there looking the other way.

"Merlin?" she queried him, softly, "Merlin, are you alright? You're not... oh Gods, you're not asleep are you?"

He gave a barely-imperceptible shake of the head.

He turned around and she saw that his face was tortured.

"I can't do it," he whispered, "I can't... I just can't."

"Can't do what?" she asked.

"He told me that I had to but I can't."

"Merlin, what are you talking about?" she demanded, worried at his tone and expression.

"Like I said, he's always right. Always. And I know he's right about this. That Knight didn't kill you for a reason but I... I just can't. It's wrong. I know it is."

"Merlin?"

"Tell me at least that you didn't know. Tell me that Morgause tricked you. Tell me that you didn't condemn all of us to death with deliberate intent. Morgana, please."

His eyes were red now; the tears he found so easy to shed welling up behind them.

She stood up and looked him square in the eyes.

"The plan was to kill Uther, to end his reign. That is all. I didn't know... I mean I didn't understand... I was just asked vaguely if I would help... I didn't..." She paused and her natural defence mechanism slammed into place.

"And what of it? Uther is a monster. And Merlin, think about it, the sleeping spell means no innocents get hurt. Isn't that better? The people of Camelot can go to sleep and wake up in a new world. Morgause isn't... Nimueh... killing innocents to torture her enemy. Morgause tried to protect everyone who might fight back. If you and Arthur hadn't gone to investigate then..."

"Then what?" he said fiercely, "then all of Camelot would have woken up to find their King dead and... what, Morgana? What would have happened then?"

"I... I don't know," she admitted, "Morgause just asked if I would help her overthrow Uther. I didn't know..."

"And again you didn't ask," he whipped out bitterly. "If the sleeping spell is her plan, Morgana, then why does she need the Knights? Did you ask yourself that?"

"Well no, I... I thought..."

"No, you didn't. You didn't _think_. Uther is gone. Who would rule? Morgause? Do you really think Arthur and Leon and the rest of the Knights would have woken up from their sleep and accepted her rule? Arthur is the rightful heir; do you think she could leave him alive? If she wants to end Uther's reign, then she must kill anyone who could step up and keep his _vision_ alive. If Arthur was gone, the people would rally around Leon, you know they would. So he must die too along with anyone else loyal to the Pendragon banner. All who serve so loyally. Gaius, Gwen..." he gritted his teeth as he spit out, "me."

"She wouldn't kill _you_," protested Morgana.

"Why? Because I have your favour? I am so honoured, _My Lady." _And he bowed sarcastically to her. "Doesn't do me much good when everyone I care about is _dead_."

She turned her back trying to process his words, trying to process anything. Then she swung back around.

"What did you mean you can't do it? What were you talking about? What did that... dragon... tell you to do?"

Merlin gave her a hopeless glance.

"He said you were the source of the spell. You're the reason Arthur is out there right now fighting for his life. He said the only way to stop it was to kill you. I brought..." he reached into his pocket and took out a vial, "...I went to Gaius' and got some poison. I know it's the only way to stop this but I... Morgana, I meant what I said. I can't commit an atrocity just because a dragon tells me to. He's right about what is but not about what should be. Please, please, please, give me another way to stop this. Give me another way to save Arthur."

He got down on his knees; the tears threatening to flow out now as he begged her.

"Please, give me another way," he whispered.

She knelt down as well and faced him.

"I don't know," she said softly, "I don't even know how the spell was cast. I don't remember... I just... Morgause asked me if I would help and... I woke up here. I don't know."

He hung his head and nodded.

She looked at him; his head hung down, his hands on his knees lying flat on the cold stone floor. She gave the vial of poison in his hand an ironic look and said angrily, deliberately.

"If you're not going to use that, can you please give it to me?"

He looked up at her, confused.

"You'll forgive me if I don't want the deadly poison in the hands of a man who wants to kill me."

He handed over the vial numbly. It was hemlock; a skull marked on the bottle in Gaius' hand.

_Gwen, Gaius, Arthur, Leon, Merlin. All those who serve out of love and not just necessity. All those who have been my rock, my port in this storm. All of them, dead._

"It's funny," she said, "I always wondered. I never knew. I thought I was a coward. I used to look at the things you did and thought you were a hero but I never understood. Not really. I thought heroism came from action and that service was a by-product of powerlessness. I thought you served because you had to and couldn't understand why I could never match your courage."

She looked at him and smiled at him tenderly.

"I really do love you, you know? And that makes it all so clear. I know now, Merlin. When it comes to someone I care about, I know finally that I can do it."

"Do what?"

She leaned forward and kissed him softly then gently stroked his cheek. Then she tilted her head back and downed the hemlock in one quick swallow.

"I can drink the poison."

* * *

"Morgana!" he yelled and he leapt up just as she laid the empty bottle on the ground.

"Morgana, what are you doing? What did you... Morgana!"

"It's too late," she said, "it's done. I can already feel it working."

His tears broke then as her legs gave way beneath her and she felt the burning poison work its way up her windpipe.

He sat down behind her and wrapped his arms around her. How many times had she longed for this and here he was; hers completely for this one moment.

"What did you do?" he whispered, his warm tears falling on her long black hair.

"If this is the only way to save you then I do it gladly," she said. "I told you, my love. I am your servant, always."

"Morgana," he sobbed.

"Merlin, there's something you need to know before... before it's too late. Merlin, Morgause is my sister."

"What?"

"No time... Merlin, she cares about me. You may not believe it but it's true. If you bargain my life... this could end, Merlin. She may even be able to save me. But you have to stand firm. For Camelot, Merlin, for me. She may..."

She stopped; suddenly finding it difficult to speak. They sat there for a while, his arms around her, his hands caressing her hair away from her face.

"I love you," he whispered finally.

"No you don't," she said huskily and smiled slightly, "but thank you for saying it."

She tried to say more; that she loved him, that this sacrifice was nothing compared to all the ones he had nearly made for everyone else. But she had no time. And the world went black.


	38. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Morgana walked down to the lake shore. She could see him sitting there; his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared out at the still water.

_I thought I'd find you here_, she said soundlessly. She loved speaking this way. It was as though she'd finally found this solid magical core inside of her that she could actually use.

He looked up, his lips curving slightly at seeing her. But she could see the tears on his face as well as his happiness at seeing her well.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said, "when I didn't hear anything..."

"I'm sorry. I was sick for days and then it took me a week to convince Morgause that I drank the poison willingly. I still don't think she entirely understands. She deals with the big picture and ambition and consuming grand plans. I don't think she understands... well, I don't think she understands."

She sat down on the grass beside him. She'd put a lot of thought into her attire, even more than usual, and wore a simple white dress. She wanted to seem as though she hadn't changed much since her absence but she also wanted to show him she was free.

The basket in her hand she placed on the ground in front of him.

"No point of a picnic without provisions," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

He pulled a piece of meat and a slice of bread wrapped in wax paper out of his pocket.

"Courtesy of Muriel," he said and smiled, knowing how jealous she was of the maid. "She saw me leaving the castle this morning and wanted to make sure I had sustenance for my journey."

"Well, I think I can outdo _Muriel_," replied Morgana with a smile. She opened the basket and pulled out some chicken, some fresh bread and some wine. She held up the carafe with an ironic look and he smiled wryly at the drunken memory. Then his smile fell off his face again as he looked out across the lake.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Scrying," she admitted, "Morgause is teaching me how to channel my gifts as a seer. I can see the present in water and sometimes even the future. Sometimes. I have a lot to learn."

He just nodded and she ploughed on.

"I saw... I saw what happened, Merlin. The dragon... you kept your word."

He nodded again but still didn't look at her. "I looked. Did you know that? I... I didn't want you to know. I was worried you might insist we keep it and use it. But I looked and I saw, I saw everything. And I still let it happen."

Morgana just shook her head, confused.

"You looked...?"

"Into the Crystal of Neahtid. It showed me the dragon's attack. I was warned but I couldn't see any way out."

More tears joined their fellows on his cheek.

"So many people are dead and Camelot is in ruins and it's all my fault. All of it."

She put her hand on his chin and gently turned his face toward her.

"We all make mistakes, Merlin. I'm a walking, talking testament to that. But, if we're lucky, we'll have people in our lives to pull us back. You may have made a mistake freeing the Dragon but I have been watching you. You made it right."

"And my father died when I could have used magic to save him. And Leon, Morgana, Leon is dead."

She put her forehead to his and ran her fingers through the hair above his ear.

"I know. I saw it all. And yet you showed Kilgharrah mercy, Merlin, the same mercy you showed me. And he is better for it, as am I. That shows truly the kind of man you are."

Merlin closed his blue eyes for a moment and they sat there like that for a minute.

Then he opened them again and looked straight into hers.

"Everyone thinks Morgause kidnapped you. You can come home, Morgana, if you want. I can arrange for Arthur and I to 'rescue' you."

She shook her head as she pulled back and slid her palm to his cheek.

"I'm happy, Merlin. I feel like I... I finally have a place in the world. A purpose, a family, a job to do. All the things you're supposed to have but that I never felt I did. All the things that make a person... satisfied."

"All the things?" he asked with a cheeky smile.

She thumped his shoulder affectionately then pressed on, ignoring the implication.

"Morgause is my sister. I'm learning magic. And soon, we will use our influence over Alvarr to rescue Mordred... my nephew."

"Mordred is your nephew?" Merlin exclaimed.

She just nodded with a wry smile.

"There're too many secrets in the world, Merlin. I can't even begin to tell you them all. But I promise you that one day I will. But for now....

"We want a world we can live in, Merlin. We want the brutality and the tyranny to end. But does bringing magic back to the world require murder? I believe that Uther should be overthrown. But do we have to be murderous to overthrow a murderer? Morgause may have her schemes but I swear to you that this time we will do things properly. We will bide our time and we will make sure the innocent do not die for being loyal to their masters.

"I learnt that from you."

She gave him an affection smile and leaned forward to kiss him softly. Then she lay back on the ground by the shore with his head on her shoulder; comforting him once again over his loss.

"Do you think she's there somewhere?" she asked softly, pointing to the lake.

He nodded. "I feel her when I'm here. I feel that maybe she's found a place to be herself."

"As have we all, now," she whispered to him, "even if that means that I am with Morgause and you are with Arthur. It's where we belong, isn't it?"

"Maybe," he looked up at her, "maybe we don't have to spend our lives as slaves to destiny. You're right, it makes our actions worthless. The dragon said I am destined to help Arthur become King but..."

"But nothing," Morgana interrupted him. "I was wrong. Not selfish, I still meant everything I said and I still believe I was justified in saying it. But I was wrong. One day Arthur will be King and he will be a better King for being served by you. That's an honourable role to have in life."

They lay for a while and Morgana was struck suddenly by how insane it was to be curled in each other's arms by a lake after everything that had happened in the last few months. Maybe there was such a thing as destiny after all.

"Have I reminded you lately that I still love you," she ventured bravely. It could be the wrong thing to say; it could spoil the mood. But if there was time for honesty, it was now.

"Have I told you I am still here for you if you need me," he replied, ever the servant.

She smiled and he smiled back then gave her the same cheeky look.

"My Lady Morgana," he said, formally, "I believe I owe you a raincheck."

"Yes, you do," she agreed, softly, "and you've been very remiss in your duties in that department."

"I apologise, Milady," he whispered huskily, "I will make amends immediately."

He pulled himself up on his elbows and leant down and kissed her; soft and sweet and warm with a sense that behind his kindness was a great wall of passion waiting to be unleashed. It was everything she'd imagined being kissed by him would be. It was so very Merlin.

"Thank you," she said.

"What can I say, Milady? I love to serve."

* * *

**This story has been a bit epic so I feel kind of sad that this it's over. But unfortunately that's it, folks. I hope you enjoyed! Please keep an eye out also for Brickroad16's final Challengers chapter(s?). Remember, this was based on a prompt on the dual meaning of servant as 'one who serves' and a 'professed lover'. I hope you think I did the prompt justice. All the best, Mnem.**


	39. Musical inspiration

**A/N Since nothing this ambitious is written without musical inspiration, here is 'A Little Warm Death' by Brisbane duo Stringmansassy (I believe these days they can only be found on MySpace). Sorry for the delay but I couldn't find the lyrics for love or money and didn't want to transcribe it from my MP3 in case I got it wrong. Finally found the old CD case in my back room.**

**

* * *

**

**A Little Warm Death**

A little warm death

A touch of sacrifice

A simple longing

That everything be right

This little warm death

Is touching everything

Remember her face

Remember everything

First we leap

And then we fly

Then we're taken

Like the night on my skin

As I sleep

Your smiling face, rainbow soul

You're acting like you know

This must be the day for letting go

A giant space calls

A little astronaut

And confidence begs

To lie upon the floor

One going up

Another going down

Both for all things

Both scattered on the ground

Things will be as they be

Revolving round like a dream

The girl in blue dress, city streets

She walks around the meeting place

A little warm death

That strengthens everything

Remember her face

Remember everything


End file.
